


Home

by TaiKaze



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: And because my other most read work is also TMNT, And hints of sex but nothing graphic, I write stories in the same order at Tarantino, I'll tell you if that changes, I'm mostly doing this because I can, Kissing not OCs, Multi, There's some violence in there, Turtles having lives and what not, Which is not in any order at all, and old, and some kissing, but yes, onwards, there are OCs, this is new, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5835523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaiKaze/pseuds/TaiKaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karai left New York nine years ago. Now she's coming home, and things have changed drastically. (Canon divergence, which is becoming more apparent the longer the show runs...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

Perhaps it was because it had been nine years since the man who raised her had died. Perhaps it was because she’d been most other places in the world worth going. Perhaps it was because one day passing through a market in a small town in Maui she’d looked at the English section of a newspaper stand and seen her father’s face. Her real father. The father she’d abandoned with his sons in New York almost a decade ago. She’d thrown the vendor a wad of cash, not caring how much it was, grabbing the paper and reading it as she walked. Her English was rusty, many years of speaking anything else. She’d avoided the news; she didn’t want to know, didn’t care. She’d missed it, New York’s mutant population coming out of hiding, demanding their human rights back. She’d missed fights and protests and uproars. She’d missed the reluctant acceptance.

Whatever the reason, she returned. She booked a flight to New York that day, and re-read the article for the twelfth through twentieth time on it.

Splinter Hamato apparently did not show his face as frequently as his sons did, but he’d sat down with April O’Neil for an interview. To tell the world his story. He mentioned her; she saw the word on the page like it was twice as big as the rest.

‘My daughter Miwa…’

She calmed herself, reading the paragraph again.

‘I had a daughter before, when I was human. She was just a little baby when there was a fire in my ancestral home. I thought she died with my wife, Teng Shen, but she lived, she was raised by Oroku Saki, the Shredder. I miss her. It’s been too long, and we are too different now. She is not my daughter Miwa anymore. She is her own woman, with her own life. I still miss her. I know she probably will not come home, and I will not ask her to. But I miss her.’

She could hear it in his voice, could see his strange but familiar face, could remember him reaching for her, pleading. He looked older in the picture, his fur more grey, the brown faded, his hands thinner, an old man’s hands.

There were other pictures, of the brothers. They had changed, grown, met more people, received formal education. There was a picture of Donatello, dressed in graduation robes, standing between O'Neil and Jones, all three showing off their diplomas. He’d graduated NYU, double majors in bio and computer engineering. There was a picture of Michelangelo, looking giddy and bashful at the same time, clutching something called a Hugo award. There was a picture of Raphael, twice as wide and a head taller than the man pinning a medal to his police uniform.

There was a picture of Leonardo, on his knees in a dojo, holding out his large hand for a three year old to punch, soft smile on his face.

She closed the paper, leaning back with a sigh, closing her eyes. It was strange to see them like that, not gangly teenagers, but grown, not in their belts and pads but actual clothes. Not hiding, but in the open, surrounded by people, being awarded for being the amazing people that they were.

She opened it again, to the last picture. Splinter, her father, sat cross-legged on the ground, back leaned against a tree, sun filtering down through the leaves above. In his lap was a toddler with a tuft of dark copper hair, and sleeping with her head leaned against his thigh was a five year old with dark skin and black, curly hair spread out over his haori. In front of them, on the grass, two mutant children were playing, both with fox-like features, snouts white, ears red, one with white fur on their thin, not quite human hands, the other with black. Another generation of children for him to watch grow. His sons had given him more family, more little ones to remind him of her.

She didn’t know if she wanted him to think of her when he saw them, or if she wanted him to have found enough peace to simply see them as they were. She wasn’t sure which one would hurt her the least.

She arrived at three in the morning, and without really thinking about it, she made her way down into the sewers. It wasn’t until she arrived at the dark and empty lair that she realized that they weren’t hiding anymore. That they had a home above ground now, filled with humans, with children who didn’t have to survive off scraps they found deep in the ground. She didn’t know where they were.

She walked inside anyway, watching her boots leave footprints in the dust.

The cavernous space was empty, even of the tire swing, even of the tatami mats from the dojo, even of the tree. They’d brought it all along to their new home, leaving nothing but dirt and concrete walls. And a shelf.

The shelf which used to hold the picture. The one of her, her father and her mother. It was still there, on the wall. And in the picture’s place, leaned against the wall, was a small, white envelope with her name on it. Not Miwa, her real name.

It took her almost a full minute until she could cross the floor, snatching the envelope off its perch. It was heavier than she’d thought, and when she ripped it open she found a note, and a key. The note wasn’t written in her father’s hand. Not in Leonardo’s either. It confused her, and reading it didn’t make it clearer.

If you ever feel like coming home, here’s the key. The code is 8576.

It was not signed. Under it was an address, and the key was taped to the back of the note.

Another one of them had left it. Splinter had given up hope that she’d come back to them, and Leo…

She’d left Leo in the chaos, in the midst of the people shocked and confused over the turtles that had without a doubt saved them. She’d left them there with the empty shell of the man that had raised her. He had not stopped her, he had not followed, just called after her.

”Will you come back?!”

She had not answered. That was the last time she’d seen him.

Was she coming back? Was she still welcome? The envelope was covered in dust, like everything else in this place. The address might not be accurate, the key might not fit the lock, the code might have been changed. Whoever left the note might have done so years ago, when all of them still had hope. When she’d still been one of the precious few people they knew.

She wondered who’d done it. Raphael? He’d never liked her, never forgiven her. Had he grown more mature? Had he done it for his brother, for his father, whom he loved more than anything? Or Michelangelo? Who’d always looked at her like he was waiting for her to smile at him, so he could smile back. Waiting for her to call him brother, so he could call her sister. Waiting for her to arrive, so he could welcome her. Or Donatello? Who wanted his family whole, and safe. Who wanted to help her, understand her.

She didn’t know, she couldn’t guess. They were unpredictable in their love, in their forgiveness. They’d rallied to help her more than once, sometimes reluctantly, but still done it.

She tore off the key, pocketed the note, and set out through the tunnels.

It was an hour before dawn when she finally sat on the rooftop on the house across. It was an old fire station, the sign replaced with a red cross on a white background. It was a clinic now, ‘mutant friendly’ written under the sign. There was a long balcony on the third floor, running the length of the building. It was filled with pots and plants, plastic chairs and the odd toy. It looked homely and messy.

As she watched, the lights came on in the kitchen. It spanned three windows, and Karai could see a table and a kitchen island, both covered with bowls and papers and books and what-nots, through the potted plants in the window sills. A woman moved through the space, flicking on the coffee machine, before opening the balcony door, stepping out to lean against the ledge.

She might have been black, or Mexican, or both, mocha skin and wavy brown hair. She was dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, and she dug out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and smoking it slowly, watching the street below. Karai could see tattoos on her arms, but couldn’t make out the designs.

As she put the cigarette out against the rail, dropping it in a jar on the floor, there was movement in the kitchen, and Michelangelo stepped outside. They exchanged words, the woman laughing, and they headed inside, closing the door.

Slowly the kitchen filled with people. After living together all their lives, the brothers must have opted to stay that way. There was the small dark child on Raphael’s arm as he walked in, the woman taking her and handing over a cup of coffee. They exchanged a kiss over the child’s head, and went on with their morning. April O’Neil rushed in, dressed to the nines, Michelangelo tossing her a lunchbox and a thermos, Raphael sticking an apple in front of her face before she rushed out again. Moments later she exited out onto the street, hailing a cab and squeezing in her purse, her lunch and herself and was off. Five minutes later, a yawning Casey Jones entered the kitchen, baby hanging from one arm. He deposited the child with Raphael, who simply moved his newspaper out of reach from the grabby little hands and continued with his breakfast. Jones wandered off, running into Donatello in the doorway. She saw Donatello’s hand on Jones’ arm as they exchanged some brief words, and then they switched places. Donatello stopped to poke the toddler’s nose, ruffle the dark girl’s hair, then went out of sight to where Michelangelo appeared to be fixing breakfast.

Then came a man she didn’t recognize, carrying the fox children she’d seen in the pictures. He was in his mid forties, the kind of hunched boney person that seemed to go straight from teenager to old man, no in-between. He helped the kits into their chairs, fetching them food and sitting down beside them with some coffee. She wondered who he was until Michelangelo appeared, placing a stack of pancakes in front of him and kissing his temple.

By the time Leonardo made his entrance, the dark woman and Raphael were moving out, the woman slowing down just enough for Leonardo to quickly and deftly braid her hair, tying it off before patting her back. Two police cars pulled up outside, and a minute later Raphael and the woman were on the street, exchanging one last kiss before getting in the separate cars. In the kitchen, Leo was assembling a tray that he then left with, and Donatello started chasing the older children out, the little ginger baby having been left to Michelangelo, who sat down to finally eat something himself. Donatello apparently walked the kids to school, waving at his brother and the baby who went out on the balcony to see them all off. Leo came back, sitting down to his own breakfast, so they tray must have been for Splinter. He was the last one to leave after cleaning up, filling the dishwasher and watering the plants on the balcony.

He stood for a moment, like the woman had, looking down on the street. He glanced over the house opposite, and she had to steel herself not to move and give herself away. Then he turned and was gone, and she could breathe again.

The clinic on the first floor seemed busy, first a staff of nurses and doctors arriving, then a pretty steady stream of people. Most were humans, but some were mutants. Jones left for work finally, coming from the back of the house on his motorcycle. Donatello must have had somewhere to be, because he didn’t come back. Splinter came out into the kitchen for lunch, leaning heavily on his cane. He was the one to feed the baby, and Michelangelo’s gangly partner made a quick appearance only to rush back down to the clinic again.  
The policewoman was the one who came home with the kids, all of them toppling out of the squad car, waving it off before heading inside. Michelangelo had made snacks just in time, and he gave the woman a shoulder rub as the kids ate. Donatello and Raphael came together, dropped off by a cab, seemingly in a heated debate about something they completely forgot when they came into the same room as their kids. Raphael changed from his uniform, then they took to the living room, the next three windows from the kitchen, and played video games. Michelangelo sat himself in a chair, typing away at his laptop. Jones came home with take away dinner, O’Neil came a few minutes later with a bag that was quickly hidden from the children. They ate in the livingroom, all of them, watching a movie, before revealing the bag full of candy.

O’Neil left first to put the toddler to bed, and returned fresh from the shower to press a kiss first on Donatello’s temple, and then on Jones’ cheek. The second one to leave was the gangly doctor, herding the rest of the kids off. They came back in pajamas to get kissed goodnight, and then they were gone. Raphael lifted up his woman, spinning her around until their laughter could be heard across the street, and then they left as well. Michelangelo grabbed his laptop, wobbling out, and Leonardo turned off the television as Donatello helped Splinter get up from his chair. Leonardo and Jones split up to check that all windows and doors were locked, and then the house was quiet and still.

She was at the twenty hour mark when she finally moved, stretching her stiff limbs and climbing down onto the street. She turned the key over in her hand, before carefully trying the door. It wasn’t locked. Surprised, she stepped inside to find a corridor. There was a camera in the corner, lamp blinking at her. Straight ahead was a door with a glass window, ‘free clinic’ printed on the glass. There was a doorbell with a sign stating to press if it was an emergency. At the end of the corridor was another door, this one with a stop sign on it. This one was locked.

She opened it with the key, shutting it behind her and locking it again. A beeping alerted her that this one was alarmed. She reached out to the glowing panel on the wall, pressing in the numbers the note had instructed her. The beeping stopped.

She walked up the narrow stair, listening. There were sounds: breathing, mumbles, bodies tossing and turning. At the top of the stair, she was just beside the kitchen doorway; she could almost see the place she’d spent most of the day. Next to that was the living room, and beyond that seemed to be the bathroom. On the opposite side, the side she hadn’t seen, were more doors. She walked to the end of the hallway, trying the first one.

The room was painted green, with pink flowers around the borders. It was filled with toys and stuffed animals and books. And in the bed, with the night light on, was the dark five year old, sleeping soundly.

In the next room she found Raphael and his woman, snoring equally as much in their heap. The walls were covered in movie posters, clothes and books on the floor, their respective uniforms slung over a chair each.

The next room had two beds, and it was painted yellow with leaves and suns poking out between the pictures and drawings decorating the walls. The kits were curled up in the left bed, small hands holding on tight to each other.

The room after that was surprisingly like the previous one, with shelves of colorful figurines, dragons and knights and space heroes. Books and comics in stacks everywhere, anatomic charts on the walls, scrubs thrown on the floor. Michelangelo had kicked off most of the cover, the older man rolled up in the excess, somehow harmonious.

The next room was Splinter’s. The wall above his futon was covered in pictures. Her family portrait was there, surrounded by pictures of the turtles, of Jones and O’Neil, of the kids, of crude crayon drawings. The rest was pristine, beautiful wall hangings, tatami mats, a folding screen. And a nightstand covered in pill bottles. She didn’t dare to look, didn’t want to know exactly what was killing the only father she had left.

The next room was empty, at least of people. There were boxes in there, labled Christmas and Halloween and Basement and Attic. There was piles of things that didn’t fit anywhere else, furniture that didn’t quite match.

The next room was Leo’s.

It was the first room she dared walk into. She’d left her heavy boots among the other shoes on top of the stairs, and her bare feet made no sound on the soft tatami mats. His room was as clean as his father’s, wall hangings mixed with movie posters on the walls, pictures of his friends and family, diplomas she couldn’t read in the dark. He slept on his side, turned to the wall. She was about to leave when she saw it.

It was a drawing, not a picture, the paper slightly mussed, like someone had been about to crumple it up before changing their mind. It was her, or as she’d looked ten years ago. She wondered who’d drawn it. She realized it must have been the last thing he saw before falling asleep. She left.

The next to last room was a mess. In the middle was a bed, and she could see Donatello’s feet, O’Neil’s hair and Jones’ back from where she stood in the doorway. The walls were hung with posters and charts of movies, bands and anatomy. There were books and mechanical parts and clothes and toys everywhere.

The last room was turqouise, a crib in the middle and filled with baby things. She went inside, looking down at the sleeping baby. He couldn’t be more than a year old, awkward-looking and cute at the same time. He slept on his back, limbs flailing a little as he dreamed.

There was the soft whisper of movement, and the click of the safety coming off a gun, a woman's voice telling her, “Step away from the baby.”

She looked over her shoulder at the dark woman holding a gun aimed at her. She was in boxers and a tank top, and she’d spoken loud enough to wake at least Donatello. There was no doubt she’d shoot if she felt the need, you could see it in her eyes.

Then there was a hand on her arm, a green, three fingered hand, and Donatello stepped into the doorway.

“Don’t worry, Zoe. She’s our sister,” he told her softly, smiling at them. “Welcome home. Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asked, pressing the woman’s, Zoe’s, arms down until the gun was aimed at the floor.

She shook her head, walking towards them. “No. Just tired.”

Donatello nodded, stepping out of her way. “I’m afraid we might have used your room for storage, but I can make up the couch for you,” he offered, and she was certain now that he’d left the note in her pocket. He hadn’t done it out of hope, like the others might have, he’d done it because there was a possibility. He’d calculated that she might come back, and prepared accordingly. She still shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. Go back to sleep, you have things to do tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “It’s Saturday. But you have a point, no need running around this late. Come on, Zoe, back to bed.” He ushered the woman away. She gave them a look over her shoulder, gun in a tight grip, but she left, slipping back into her and Raphael’s room, closing the door. Donatello touched her arm before heading towards his own. “Make yourself at home,” he offered, closing the door, leaving her alone again.

The trust baffled her slightly, left her frozen for a long moment.

She could go to the kitchen, dig out something to eat, wait for morning. She could take a quick nap on the couch, be ready when the rest of the house awoke to find her. She could leave, throw away the key, never come back. But they had saved room for her, they had saved a space in this life for her for almost ten years, and it didn’t feel right to throw that away. She was tired. She wanted to come home.

She slipped into the room, dropping her jacket onto the floor, walking over to the bed. His breath hitched, just a little but it did, when she unzipped her jeans, sliding them off. He didn’t move as she crawled in under the cover, curling up against the soft dome of his shell. He relaxed, slowly, as he felt her doing the same. Just before she fell asleep, Leo whispered in the dark.

“Welcome home, Karai.”


	2. There ain’t nothing that I need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey has his best idea yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I would like to also point out that I don't have a beta but I do have dyslexia. Any volunteers?)

It was grating on Casey’s nerves by now. Wearing them down, scrubbing them raw. He was really over and done with the entire situation. Something had to give out, something had to change.

It was the sixth time this month that April got off his lap, pushing him away, started correcting her clothes and her hair, mumbling ‘I can’t’ and ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. He knew. He got it. He’d pieced it together. He might not be Don, but he wasn’t dumb. Speaking of Don, he knew she did this to him too. He was pretty sure she didn’t get further with him either. He leaned back, watching her gather up her stuff, watching her avoid looking at him. Watched her leave.

He wasn’t even angry anymore, the rage had burned out. Who was he supposed to be mad at anyway? Her? For being in love with two people and completely unable to choose? Didn’t seem fair. He couldn’t be mad at Donnie; he’d been mad at Donnie, hated him even, but it had been difficult. He was clever and loyal and awkward and patient and Casey had fought beside him and eaten his food and shared Don’s first beer with him. You can’t hate a guy when you’ve been through that much together. Not possible.

He looked down at his lap, the half hard bulge that poked up his jeans, wondering where the heat and the friction went. He sighed, grabbed the remote, turning up the volume on the TV just in case, before sinking back into the couch, unzipping his pants. It came easy, April’s smell still lingering in the air, on his clothes, on his skin. He thought of her pretty lips, and her sly smile, her soft hair and the freckles dusted over her body. He thought of her kisses and her touches.

He thought of her kissing Donnie.

He stopped, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, trying to clear that thought away, but it stuck to him, like a popcorn kernel between the teeth.

April kissing Donnie, sitting across his lap like she’d just done with Casey. Donnie’s large hands running up her ribcage, covering her chest. Donnie kissing down her neck, April making those small sounds she’d let out when Casey did the same.

He came so hard his mind went completely blank for a good long moment. When he could finally manage to do more than twitch and breathe, he looked down at his soiled hand, trying to make sense of that.

“Maybe that’ll work…”

 

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The next time when he got to the lair, the main room was empty. He could hear sounds all around, Raph shouting at Mikey from the direction of their rooms. He figured they’d be out soon. There was a soft clatter from the lab, and he poked the door open a notch, stopping when he saw a flash of yellow. April was sitting on Donnie’s work desk, arms around his neck, legs hooked around the edge of his shell, keeping him there. Three years ago, that sight would have made him livid. Three weeks ago, he would have shut the door and tried not to think about it. Now he watched, looked at Don’s hands resting carefully, almost timidly on her hips, like he was afraid that if he moved, she’d get spooked. Casey could relate to that.

He heard Raph coming, pushing the door shut and stepping away from it just as the other turtle came into view. He raised his hand. “There you are! Am I the only one ready to go kick some butt?” he asked, loudly, trying not to smirk at the sound of things falling over inside the lab.

Raph shrugged, walking over. “Looks like it, man. April came a while ago, think she’s in the lab with Don.” He knocked hard on the door, before shoving it open. “Hey, nerds, let’s get a move-on!”

April had gotten off the table, re-tying her ponytail, and Don seemed to have more or less flung himself across the room, poking around with something by his computer. “Right! Yes, we’re coming! I mean we’re good to go! I mean… Yes, ok.” He got to his feet, stumbling a little, grabbing his bo staff. “All good. Let’s go!”

Raph just rolled his eyes, and Casey had to bite his lip not to laugh. That settled it, Donnie was fucking adorable, and the second patrol was over, he was going to settle this once and for all.

Leo was getting better. He smiled nowadays, which was nice. He’d been very cold and very distant since Karai left, but now he let them joke around for a minute before clearing his throat.

“Alright, guys, focus. We’ll go in pairs, and meet up at Murakami’s. It seems like a quiet night, but don’t get taken by surprise, ok? Alright, Raph, you’re with me, April, you go with Mikey, Don, you’re with Casey.” They nodded, April and Mikey knocking fists before taking off to the south, Donnie nudging at Casey to follow him west. They’d gotten good at this now, after three years of patrols almost every night. Casey and April had learned to keep up, skipping over rooftops and sliding over rails as easily as the turtles.

As they stopped for a second to reorient, Casey heard something. He didn’t need to tell Don, just nudged his shoulder, heading off in the direction of the sound. Don followed behind him, awkward limbs forgotten, silent and swift like a shadow just behind him.

There was a woman, clutching her purse, and three guys, one with a switchblade. He could feel Donnie roll his eyes beside him. Child’s play.

They dropped at the same time, limbs spread, joints loose. Casey landed on the bulkiest of the guys, knocking him out flat, using his hockey stick to whack away the blade before Donnie smacked him over the head, the third guy having already served as his landing spot. Don flashed the startled lady his gap toothed smile, asking in his politest voice, “If you could call this in when you have the chance, we’d be much obliged. Have a nice evening, ma’am.”

Casey snorted behind his mask, running over to the closest fire escape, jumping up to pull down the ladder. It jolted and came down faster, Donnie having jumped on above him, helping him up. They were at the roof before the lady managed to shake herself out of it enough to start getting away. They made sure she got to a well lit street, phone in hand, before they ducked down on the top of another fire escape, laughing.

“Did you see the look on her face when you talked? Is she the only person in New York that hasn’t watched the news?” Casey snorted. Since their last battle against Shredder and the foot, they were common knowledge. New York was officially ‘Mutant City Number One’, and the debate was still going strong on whether the infamous turtle ninjas were heroes or menaces. Not that they cared, they just kept doing what they did.

Donnie just laughed, eyes squinting, a wrinkle on his nose ridge. He looked just as cute as April did, and God damn it, he was just two inches away. So Casey pulled up his mask, leaning over to press a kiss to Don’s lips.

He’d touched the guys before, of course he had. They were always the same temperature as the room around them, if they hadn’t been fighting. Then they were hot, almost burning so. Their skin didn’t feel like human skin, it felt much thicker. There was a distinct difference between their lips and human lips, Casey found. They were more rigid, not as soft or pliable as human ones. Still nice though.

He backed off, just half an inch, looking into Donnie’s eyes. He was freaking out. Casey was well and truly familiar with Donnie’s I’m-freaking-out face. Eyes wide, mouth making almost a figure eight shape. Don moved his mouth without sound, before finally managing to squeak out, “What in the name of Einstein’s bloomers do you think you’re doing?!”

Even that was fucking adorable, Casey couldn’t help but grin. “I’m kissing you, shell-for-brains.” He rolled his eyes. “I know you know what kissing is, geez…”

Donnie looked ready to murder him, which in all fairness he still did at least twice per month.

“I know what kissing is, you dickwad… I want to know why you are kissing me!” he hissed. He still hadn’t moved away though, Casey noted. He reached out, grabbing the rail of the fire escape, trapping Donnie in the corner, pressed against the bars.

“Did you just curse? A real actual curse word? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He smirked, yelping a little when Donnie grabbed the front of his hoodie, tugging him closer to growl, “Listen here, Jones…! I don’t know what the heck you think you’re doing, but I swear to God if you keep this up I’ll throw you off this ladder!”

“You’re an atheist,” he pointed out, regretting it when he actually saw something snap in Donnie’s eyes. Shit, he might actually throw Casey off the damn fire escape. That would be counterproductive. He jerked forward, kissing him again, feeling Donnie flail a little against him in surprise.

When he leaned back, Donatello looked less panicky and more confused. That was better, that meant he was at least a little bit curious.

“I’m kissing you because you’re a smart-mouthed, gap-toothed nerd, and I’m tired of just thinking about it. Come on, you’ve got to be sick of this as well…” he more or less groaned. “I know you’re just as fed up as I am, with her never making up her mind. So, I propose a solution. You want her. She wants both of us, I want both of you. Only thing left to figure out is if you want me.”

Donnie blinked at him, just looked at him for a long time, seemingly trying to wrap his head around it. Casey figured he was overthinking it, it was a very easy problem they were faced with here. Finally Donnie asked, eyes narrowed, “Are you serious?”

Casey fought the urge to roll his eyes again, gripping the rail beside Donnie’s head tighter. “Yes. I am,” he told him with as much sincerity as he could muster. He wanted this. Or at the very least, he wanted to try. Donnie cleared his throat, but didn’t get to speak again before his shell cell went off. He grabbed it, almost dropped it, before finally answering.

“Leo! Yes, Hi… Oh we… we got caught up stopping a mugging, we’ll be right there. Give us… six minutes. Alright.”

He shoved the cell back in his belt, sighing. Then he stood, and Casey had the choice to move or be moved. Donnie was taller and stronger than him, he’d get up whether Casey did or not. He moved.

“They’ve got a robbery in progress. Let’s go, before they have to move in without us,” Donnie told him flatly, jumping onto the rail, then the roof, sprinting away. Casey sighed, but followed. They’d talk later, he’d make sure of that.

 

The robbers were Purple Dragons; a bit of a hassle, but they managed. They lingered a while until the police showed up, ready to duck for cover. But no one shot at them, and one of the officers even raised his hand in a mock-salute before they slipped into the shadows. The people of New York were slowly coming around to the whole mutant thing.

Well safe at Murakami’s, they exchanged stories, ate, and finally parted. As they did, Donatello grabbed Casey by the arm, whispering so his brothers wouldn’t hear.

“Next time she… comes over, text me,” he mumbled, not quite looking Casey in the eyes before he slipped off, following his brothers down the manhole. Casey guessed that was as good as he’d get right now. One step at the time.

 

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Donnie managed to avoid being alone in a room with him for the next week and a half. Casey stopped trying; this conversation was clearly not happening until April had one of her moods. Fine. Ok. He could wait. He’d waited this long. There was an end game now, a light at the end of the tunnel.

Nine days later though, April came over, and he knew she wasn’t there to study the second she said yes to a beer. As he grabbed them one each, he shot off a text to Don. He wanted to know when it was going down, Casey obliged.

Fifteen minutes later, he had a lap full of ginger grinding against him like no tomorrow. He wondered how her thought process worked. What she hoped to gain, doing this. She was obviously not emotionally ready to pick one of them, and going behind the other’s back just seemed to cause her anxiety. Hopefully, that would all be over soon.

Predictably enough, she soon pushed away, getting up. Usually he let her, not willing to push her, but Donnie wasn’t here yet, so he’d have to stall. Great. Well in that case, he could might as well ask.

“Hey, Red, what exactly is it that you’re doing?”

April stopped, in the middle of shoving her books back into her bag. “I’m going home… Doesn’t seem like we’re going to study much…” she started weakly. Casey rolled his eyes.

“You weren’t planning to study when you came here, you were going to make out with me. So why stop?” he asked, watching her close the bag with more amount of force than needed, walking around the couch.

“Cut it out, Casey,” she muttered, looking for her shoes. He turned around, sitting on his knees on the couch, arms rested against the back.

“ ’Cause you keep doing this. You come over, you make out with me, you get frustrated, you go home. Over and over… Like, isn’t that the definition of madness, doing the same thing over and over…?”

She cut him off with a glare. Why was it that the people he liked usually glared at him with a very strong hint of murder in their eyes? Either way, it was hot. He pushed on.

“What’s your plan here, April? What results are you hoping for? Just stay. You know you want to.”

She turned away, shaking her head. “I’m not having this conversation with you. And I can’t stay, I can’t...” She trailed off. Casey sighed.

“You can’t do this to Donnie?” he guessed, April proving him right by jerking.

“Who’s the better kisser, me or Donnie?”

She looked surprised, frozen with shock really. What, she thought he didn’t know? How dumb did she think he was?

“I’ve got to say, out of the two of you, it’s you…” he continued, mostly to have her turn back, looking if possible even more confused.

“What?”

“Out of you and Donnie, you’re definitely the better kisser,” he clarified. She blinked at him, like she didn’t understand what he was saying.

“How would you…?” she started before a voice from the window interrupted.

“How would you know?” They turned around, finding Don on the window ledge, climbing inside. Casey grinned. Finally.

“I’ve kissed you like twice, and while it was very nice, April is better at it.” Donnie huffed, walking over as Casey stood up.

“You took me by surprise, it wasn’t like I kissed back.”

Casey shrugged. “Whatever, man, blame it on that.” Donnie got up close in his personal space, hissing.

“Oh yeah? Is that how you want to play it, Jones?”

Before Casey could answer, there was a very strong hand wrapping around the back of his neck, and he was pulled into a kiss and wow. Wow. He was actually slightly dazed when Don let him go again.

“You know what…?” he mumbled. “I’mma call that a tie…”

Donnie huffed, but he was still smiling, and his hand was still resting at the back of Casey’s neck.

“What the hell is this?”

They turned to April, and Casey felt a tiny bit satisfied at the look on her face. She’d been the one controlling this freespin for so long, now it was their turn. Donnie shrugged, resting his arm on Casey’s shoulder.

“It’s kissing. I’m pretty sure you know what kissing is.”

Casey snorted, since that was what he’d told Donnie last week. It was actually very hard not to start laughing, even when April glared at them both.

“Donnie, I’m serious, what the hell is this?” she growled, and they looked at each other again, Donnie, shrugging a little. Fine, Casey could do it.

“This is the solution,” he told her, smiling. “You don’t have to pick, you don’t have to feel guilty, and we don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s the three of us anyway, we can might as well be the three of us properly and be happy.”

Ok, not the best explanation but they’d known him long enough to keep track. April glanced between them, pointing. “Soo… You’re both fine with this? With being… Together? All three of us?”

He looked at Donnie, who smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we’re fine,” he mumbled softly.

Casey nodded back. “Yeah, we are.”

April slumped a little, relaxing, the little wrinkle between her brows smoothening out. Casey glanced her over, before smirking.

“Hey, Donnie.” He nudged the turtle, before looking up at him (Donnie was tall now, almost a head taller than him). “I think she liked it when we kissed.”

He grinned, Donnie glancing at April, cheeks growing darker as he asked, “You think?”

Casey grinned wider, grabbing the belt over his chest, pulling him closer. “Let’s do it again, see how she reacts,” he suggested, and Donnie was quick to comply. Donnie kissed like he did everything else in life, thoroughly and gently. It was nice, it felt fulfilling somehow. When he finally broke it off and looked over at April, he could see he’d hit the nail on the head, ‘cause April was giving them major bedroom eyes. He tapped Don’s hip, nodding at her.

“Told you. I’ve had my make-out session, your turn.”

Donnie hesitated, before slowly moving over to April. She let her bag drop, reaching out for him when he came close enough. He kissed her just as sweetly, running a thumb over her cheek. Best part, Casey didn’t even feel jealous, just happy, giddy even, seeing them like that. Yeah, he wanted this. He wanted them.

April let him go slowly, stepping back. She looked between them, before giving them that sly smile that went straight to Casey’s pants.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” she told them, turning away, starting to walk towards his bedroom. As she came to the open door, she grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it off and leaving it there on the floor in the doorway as she disappeared inside. Donnie made a small sound at the back of his throat, looking at Casey in panic.

Casey did his best not to laugh, walking up to him, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s not keep her waiting.” He tugged Donnie’s arm, but the other boy shook his head.

“I don’t think I… I mean the two of you can just… I’ll just…” he fidgeted, looking at the bedroom doorway. Casey rolled his eyes.

“D, the only reason this is happening, is because you’re here too. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been dying to see her shirtless for a long time.”

There was a soft thud, and both of them turned to see the heap of jeans and tights that had just landed on top of the shirt. Donnie’s breath hitched again. Casey squeezed his hand, turning back to him.

“Do you want this? ‘Cause I do, and I feel pretty safe saying she does too.”

Donnie glanced at him, then looked at the pile of clothes. Then he gulped, and nodded.

“Yeah, I want this.” He squeezed Casey’s hand back, and Casey stepped towards the room, pulling him along. This time, Donnie followed.

April was waiting, rolled onto the bed like the cutest centerfold Casey had ever seen. “What took you two so long?” she smiled, cheek leaned in her hand.

Donnie let go of his hand to grab at his arm, choking out, “Casey, this is the single best idea you’ve ever had…”

Casey chuckled, patting his plastron, before heading for the bed, knowing Donnie would follow. Yeah, this was one of his better ones.

 


	3. Let me come home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The test of fire.

Karai didn’t sleep for long. She never did. Four hours, maybe five, never more. She woke up at dawn, finding herself with Leo’s heavy arm over her. She could see tiny scars and marks that hadn’t been there before, new things that had happened to his skin since they were last this close. She edged forward, ghosting her lips over his. He stirred but didn’t wake. She smiled, carefully getting out of bed.

A look in his closet revealed mostly kimonos, a few geeky t-shirts and some very large pants that looked like they’d been altered to fit him right. She grabbed one of the longer haoris, wrapping it around herself. It reached over her knees, and she deemed it enough.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, (which was filled with stuff: twenty kinds of soap and shampoo, the tub filled with bath toys, a changing table mounted under one of the overflowing shelves, fifteen toothbrushes in jars on the sink) she wandered into the kitchen, finding the balcony door ajar. She slipped out, finding the policewoman, Zoe.

She was smoking, still in the tank and boxers she’d worn last night. She glanced at Karai, before holding out the pack. Karai didn’t smoke often, but she knew what a gesture looked like, so she took one, letting Zoe light it.

“So.” The older woman breathed in a cloud of smoke. “You’re Karai.”

Karai nodded, even though that hadn’t been a question, taking a long drag. Zoe leaned against the thick rail, flicking some ash over the edge.

“My husband doesn’t like you,” she stated, making Karai smile. Some things never changed.

“I know. I don’t blame him, I never gave him a reason to. Any of them for that matter. He’s the sanest one in the bunch.”

Zoe laughed, soft and throaty. “I wouldn’t say that…” She looked at Karai, eyes brown with a green circle around the iris. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was pretty; round, strong features. A red dragon snaked around her right arm, biting into her shoulder. “Are you staying?”

Karai was a little taken aback by the question, looking away as she took another drag, wrapping her free arm around her waist. She felt oddly small next to this woman and her bulging biceps and round hips. She didn’t know what to answer, and in the silence, Zoe continued.

“If not, then leave now. Right now, before they wake up. ‘Cause I don’t think they’ll handle you ditching them again all too well.”

Karai nodded slowly, breathing the smoke out through her nose. Zoe put her cigarette out, dropping it into the mason jar on the floor. “I’m guessing you’re a tea drinker… I’ll put the kettle on.” She gave Karai a small, kind smile, heading inside.

Karai contemplated jumping off the balcony, scaling down onto the street and running off. Or going back to Leo’s room, getting her clothes and sneaking down the stairs. In the end, she dropped her cigarette in the mason jar, heading inside.

“Is there an unused toothbrush?” she asked, Zoe looking up from her coffee cup.

“The ones in the striped mug,” she nodded, watching Karai leave. When she came back, teeth clean, Leo was sitting at the table, two steaming cups of tea in front of him. He gestured to the chair beside him, polite and nervous at the same time. She sat, pulling one of the cups over, before looking at him.

“What?”

He smiled. “I kinda like the look of you in my clothes,” he admitted, and she had to fight hard not to blush and look away. She’d missed him. She’d missed the way he looked at her, his smell, his smile. No, she wouldn’t leave him, not again.

“Good, because I didn’t bring any of my own,” she smirked, sipping the tea.

 

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Raphael looked at his best friend, long and hard. Because that’s what Casey was, his best friend. Friends were scarce in this life they led, and Raph would die for him the same as he would die for his brothers.

They were sitting at one of the abandoned subway stations that littered the hollowed out space under New York, Raph on a crate and Casey next the cooler he’d brought for this very purpose.

Finally, Raph sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, muttering, “I need a beer…”

Casey supplied him with one wordlessly, watching Raphael prod it open, chug the whole thing in one go, and squeeze the can in one hand before throwing it away. Casey held out another, and this one Raph just sipped before he could finally manage to speak.

“So you’re screwing my brother.”

Very eloquent, but Raph didn’t feel like beating around the bush. Casey let out a breath, nodding.

“Well, yeah, I guess… We just… It felt stupid that one of us should be left out. There was no reason.” He shrugged, grabbing a beer for himself as well. Raph rolled his eyes.

“Does Leo know? Mikey? Splinter…?” he asked, Casey shaking his head.

“Donnie’s telling Leo, April’s telling Mikey. Don wanted you guys to know before we talk to Splinter.” He looked almost scared as he said it, and Raph couldn’t blame him. He had no idea how their father would react. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he’d react himself once this settled in. Right now he was at least 75% sure it was a joke.

“I don’t get it…” he admitted, taking a sip. “Can’t really imagine kissing Donnie.” He shuddered a little. Casey grinned.

“But you can imagine kissing April?” he guessed, Raph huffing.

“April’s the only girl I know and trust. Yeah, I’ve imagined kissing her. I just have like zero desire to actually do it.” It was true. He loved April very much, she was as much his friend as Casey was. And sure, she was smart and pretty and funny and all that. The sister he never asked for, but wouldn’t give up for the world.

Casey laughed, taking a sip before asking quietly, “Ever thought about kissing me?”

Raph had to think about that one. He hadn’t, not really, and now that he tried it didn’t sit right with him. He shook his head.

“You don’t really do it for me, Jones.”

Casey’s laugh helped the slightly unsettled feeling in his stomach. He didn’t like this, not really. But Casey and April were his friends, Donnie was his brother, and Raph had hated the frankly poisonous thing that had been growing between them. If that went away, then it was fine. He figured it was just because he’d never ever thought this would happen. He didn’t like surprises.

He finished the beer, tossing the can away. “Well, nothing I can do to about it, is there?” he muttered. “Just know that if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you, that’s for sure.”

Casey didn’t argue, just nodded, and handed him another beer. Raph took it, drinking it slowly, starting to feel the warm buzz. His father didn’t like it, didn’t want him to drink, but Raph was eighteen, living in the sewers and his only two friends were not just doing each other, but his brother as well. If there was ever a time to drink…

At least they all seemed happy.

 

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It had been a while since Karai had to deal with a child. She’d largely avoided them for most of her life, to be honest, but now she was trapped. And seriously reevaluating her decision to stay.

Zoe’s child peered up at Karai suspiciously, remarkably similar to her father even though Karai knew it was impossible for them to share DNA. Zoe held her hand on the wild brown hair, waiting for her to make up her mind. Finally, the little girl turned to look up at her mother.

“She has red in her hair. I want to color my hair too, but I want pink, because pink is pretty.”

Zoe smiled, winking at Karai. “You pass,” she whispered, before picking up her daughter. “Say hi to aunt Karai properly, Adelita. She’s been away a long time, we need to welcome her home.”

Adelita nodded seriously, turning to Karai. “Okaerinasai, Karai-oba. Bienvenido.”

Karai was a bit thrown by the Japanese, then again by the Spanish. She hadn’t been expecting it. “Uh… Tadaima,” she responded, having no clue what the proper way to answer the Spanish was. Adelita didn’t seem to care, just smiled, and turned to her mother to ask if she could eat breakfast in front of the Saturday cartoons. Zoe agreed, stacking a tray with bowls, milk and cereal and sent her on her way.

“The minute the twins hear the television, they’ll come bolting,” she explained. “They’re strange little ones, but they’re coming out of their shells. They were left here, did you know that? Their mother just left them in a box in the clinic waiting room.” She huffed, shaking her head as she went back to pouring up miso soup in a small lacquer bowl for the tray Leo was putting together. “Probably just as well, some people shouldn’t be parents.”

Leo nodded in agreement, preparing a cup of tea. “Mikey and Jordan take good care of them. Jordan adopted them, and for the whole first week they wouldn’t let Mikey out of their sight. Oh, Jordan is Mikey’s husband, he owns the clinic downstairs. I mean, technically he owns the whole house, but you know…” He trailed off, handing her the tray. “Remind him to take his medicine.”

Karai looked at the tray, then shook her head. She wasn’t ready. Leo just raised an eyebrow, nudging her. “The sooner you do it, the sooner it’s done.”

She grabbed the tray, glaring. “What a redundant thing to say,” she muttered, Leo grinning.

“Just do it. Stalling will just make it worse. Go on.”

So she left, walking out the kitchen, into the hallway. In the dark last night she hadn’t noticed the skylights, but now they brought at least the illusion of light to the otherwise dark hallway. She nudged the middle door open, slipping inside her father’s room.

He was still sleeping, too old to be disturbed by whatever had happened since she was last in this doorway. She used her foot to gently close the door, walking closer. She set the tray down, kneeling beside his futon. He looked so old, much older than last time. How old was he now? Sixty? Seventy? Much older than a rat should be. He looked so frail, she suddenly had a feeling she’d made it just in time. Time. How much of that would she have with him? She reached out, gently touching his arm.

“Ohayou gozaimazu, Otosan,” she almost whispered, but he woke anyway, blinking confusedly for a few seconds before his eyes focused on her.

“Mi… My daughter,” he corrected himself, sitting up. “You are home…” He reached for her hands, and she let him take them. His own were cold and frail, the skin almost translucent.

“Yeah, I’m home,” she nodded, squeezing his hands as hard as she dared. He leaned against her, breathing deep in relief. He had not dared to hope, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy she’d come.

She sat with him as he ate, helped him get the pills from the small bottles. She still didn’t read the labels on them, still didn’t want to know. He told her anyway.

“For my liver, and my kidneys… Mutagen seems to work better on the young. Full grown people seem to suffer some damage, the tissues too worn. Jordan-sensei does his best; he’s a good doctor, very innovative. Have you met him yet? I think you’d like him.”

She shook her head. She’d seen the doctor, but he was still sleeping. Splinter sipped his tea, smiling. She fisted her hands on her lap, figuring now was as good a time as any to ask for what she’d wanted when she came here. Well, one of the things…

“I want to be a Hamato.”

He looked up at her, mild surprise on his face, cup still in his hands.

“Will you let me be one? Will you let me be Hamato Karai?” she asked, pressed him. She wasn’t Miwa, but she wasn’t Oroku either. Splinter sighed, sipping his tea.

“No.”

The answer shocked her. Splinter was not the person to turn anyone away like that, not after she’d come home, not now when she finally wanted this family. His smile threw her off.

“Wonderful times, these,” he told her softly. “So much has changed. I never dared to imagine what the future might hold for my sons, but it has come, and it is better than I could have hoped. They have jobs, friends, they walk in the sunlight. They have gone to school, they vote. They have social security numbers. Three of them are legally married…” He fixed his eyes on her.

“I’d like to see all of them married, before I die. I can not give you this family name, but he might, if you asked him to.”

She was torn between being angry and strangely proud. There was a shrewdness to his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. That’s where the brothers got that look from, that smug little smile.

“So that’s how it is?” she finally asked him. He nodded, finishing his tea.

“That’s how it is.”

 


	4. Laugh until we think we’ll die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad things happen to good people.

Raph did his best not to smile when they were splitting up for patrol. Donnie was cooing sweet nothings at what he’d affectionately named his ‘datemates’, walking backwards until he tripped. All three of them were happy and adorable and so cute he wanted to gag. He was getting over the whole ‘my brother is dating my best friend’ thing, mostly because he didn’t want to rain on their parade.

Donnie got himself up, sheepishly, and they took off. It was impossible to let Donnie, April and Casey team up with each other; they just ended up making out. So there was a new system with the three of them rotating turtles, and tonight, it was Don and Raph. At least Don had learned to shut up about it, mostly.

They took to the riverside, stalking along the west bank. It was kind of nice, just jumping from rooftop to rooftop, not really talking. He and Don’d had a few fights, but they hadn’t been serious, and Raph had mustered up the balls to apologize, so they were good. Everything was good. Until they came upon a broken door on the side of a warehouse.

They split off, slipping in the door and taking one direction each. Raph got lucky, hearing voices after not even a minute of slipping around the huge crates in the vast space.

“...Not supposed to be here…!”

“Never mind that, let’s just load up and leave.”

“What about…?”

“I’ll dump her in the river; it’ll take weeks before they find her.”

“Shoot her first, maybe she can swim.”

“Fine, hand me your gun.”

Yeah, he didn’t have time to wait for Donnie from the sound of that. He estimated where they’d be based on their voices. Only two, piece of cake.

Three, as it turned out; one that had been kneeling next to an unconscious police officer on the floor. He was worried for a moment, before he realized not even these dumb thugs would waste a bullet on a corpse. He whacked the gun away, first of all, almost blowing out his ear drum when it went off, bullet flying past his shoulder. He knocked out the would-be shooter, turning to take on the guy next to him. The third one bolted, rounding a corner just as Raph took down number two, and Donnie came sprinting from the other direction.

“One more! Make sure she’s alright!” he shouted at Don, before running after the little creep. He was fast, looked like one of them shifty, back-stabbing types. He got to the door, managing to wrench it open just as Raph caught up to him, slamming into both him and the door.

The full body tackle knocked the fight out of him, and number three was out cold. Raph grabbed him, starting to haul him back when there was a gunshot. From inside.

He dropped the thief, bolting back. The gun should have landed far out of reach. Did one of them still have one? His heart was in his throat as he rounded the corner, and everything sort of froze.

Donnie was on the ground, on his back, bo-staff rolled out of his hand. The policewoman was awake, half sitting up, her service gun in her trembling hands. Then she dropped it, cursing, and half crawled, half slid over to Donnie, hands going to his chest. “Oh no… Oh no… Dios… Dios mío, por favor…”

Then suddenly he could move again, rushing forward, skidding on his knees. “Donnie!!”

The woman let out a startled yelp, grabbing at her now empty holster but he didn’t care. Donnie was hurt. How the fuck would they do this? Donnie was the one who fixed them!

The bullet had punched through the top part of his plastron, cracking the corner, before burying itself in his left shoulder. There was blood. A lot of blood; the sight made him panic. He was dead! Donnie was dead, because Raph had left him alone… he was dead and it was all his fault…!

Then there were hands pressing a black shirt over the wound, fitting it in under the gap between the plastron and Donnie’s blood-covered chest. He whined, body twitching. He was alive! The policewoman grabbed his hands, pressing them down onto the shirt. She was saying something. He should maybe listen.

“Do you have anywhere you can take him? Anyone who can help? I can’t call an ambulance on this guy…!”

“You did this…” He remembered the gun in her hands; it had been her, she’d shot Donnie. She looked just as shaken and afraid as he felt, hands clamping down on his. She wore a dirty white tank top under her shirt.

“I know!” she snapped at him. “I’m sorry! You can do what you want later but right now he still has a chance. The bullet’s still there, clogging the wound. He’s breathing and he feels pain, so he hasn’t completely gone into shock. We need to take him to someone who can help him,” she continued firmly. Raph shook his head.

“He’s the one… He’s the one who knows what to do…” he choked out. She cursed in Spanish again, looking around desperately.

“Can you carry him?”

“What?” He wasn’t following. Not even a little bit. He could feel Donnie’s chest rise and fall, in and out, one more second of him being alive, and another.

“I know a guy, don’t think he’s dealt with turtles, but he’s had mutants before. So, can you carry him?”

“I can do better.” He grabbed her hands, pressing them back against the shirt, which was getting too damp for his tastes. He pulled out his shell-cell, pressing it to his ear.

“Leo? Get the truck, I don’t have time to argue, Donnie’s been shot.”

 

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Leo didn’t like it. Raph was well aware of the fact that Leo didn’t like it. He didn’t like it either, but what choice did they have? He held on to the back of the driver’s seat, trying not to think, or feel, or look towards the back where the others were hovering over Donnie. Next to him on the floor was the policewoman. The radio in her belt kept letting out bursts of static, a voice calling for Sergeant Espinoza. He figured that was her. She didn’t look Mexican, dark skin and a proper afro, but she kept mumbling in Spanish, so what did he know?

Leo made the final turn, finding their destination. “That’s a fire station…”

The maybe-Sergeant Espinoza nodded. “He bought it, was gonna make it into a clinic before he lost his license…”

“This guy doesn’t even have a license?” Leo snapped, the woman glaring up at him.

“It’s him, or the general hospital. What choice do you have? Drive through the gate to the loading dock.”

Leo answered with a row of Japanese curses, doing as she told him to. She was right, what choice did they have?

There was a tunnel through the building, and a boxed-in yard at the back. Leo parked at the loading dock, maybe-Espinoza climbing out, rushing over to a door, pressing one of the bells next to it. Lights came on on the floor above, and a head glanced out the window before it was gone again. A minute later, a shabby looking man threw open the door, looking at them.

“Holy hell, Zoe! What the fuck is this?!”

She grabbed on to his arm with one hand, holding on to the door with the other.

“Jordan, you’ve got to help them. One of them… I… I shot one of them, left shoulder. It missed his heart but he’s having trouble breathing… Please…”

The doctor, Jordan, looked at them, trying to pull the door shut but the policewoman had about a hundred pounds on his skinny frame.

“Zoe… I owe you a lot but… Jesus Christ…”

“Jordan, you take in mobsters and thieves. These are the ones saving our city. Help him. Please, Jordan, you’re a doctor! Just do your damn job!”

Leo stepped forward, pulling her aside to look at the scrawny thirty-something doctor.

“Please, sir. We have nowhere else to go. Please, don’t let my brother die…”

The doctor glared at him, before looking down, letting the door go. “Second door on the right.”

Leo let out the shadow of a smile, turning back to where Mikey and Casey were carefully helping Raph lift Donnie out of the truck.

“This goddamn city… Should have become a butcher…” the doctor muttered, letting them all inside.

Once they’d placed Donnie on the surprisingly clean metal slab in the surprisingly clean room, they were booted out, apart from April who cited her biology degree.

And that’s when the policewoman seemed to notice she was alone, unarmed, corned in an empty hallway by a bunch of people whose partner and brother she’d shot. She looked at them, and Raph could tell she was afraid. She was bulky, she could probably put up a good fight, especially if she feared for her life. Her arms were covered in tattoos, a red dragon climbing up her right one, three white stars in a row under her collar bones. Her radio was still bursting out static and police codes. She met his eye, looked at him for a long time, then she sighed, and sat down on one of the plastic chairs.

Leo squeezed past him to stand in front of her, staring down at her bowed head.

“You shot my brother,” he stated flatly, the curly hair bobbing slightly. “If he dies, you should run. Because I don’t know what I’ll do.”

They all froze, Raph feeling something cold grip his insides. Shit. Leo fucking meant that; he was fucking serious.

“I really don’t.”

She looked up, right in his eyes, and even though she looked shaken and scared, there was a calmness to her voice as she choked out, “You’ll do what you have to do.”

Then she looked down, clenching her hands together, whispering in Spanish under her breath. Her knuckles went white, her body shook, and Raph couldn’t imagine fighting her. He had a feeling she wouldn’t fight back right now.

A few minutes later, the door was thrown open, the doctor walking out, and Raph felt dizzy at the sight of blood on his clothes.

“Do any of you guys know what blood type he is? ‘Cause I need some, ASAP…!”

They all startled before looking at Mikey, who shot up. “I’m a match! We’ve done it before, Donnie tested us just in case, and I’m that one that goes with everyone else and…!”

He didn’t get to finish before the doctor grabbed him, hauling him inside and shutting the door on the rest of them.

No one spoke. Casey sat fidgeting in one of the chairs, flipping one of his hockey sticks around and around. Leo stood in the corner, arms around himself, breathing too slowly to be natural. Raph paced. Back and forth, from the wall to the front door and back, again and again. It was hours before the door opened, April slipping out. They converged on her in a heartbeat, everyone too scared to ask. Then she smiled, weak and frail.

“He’s stable. Doctor Jordan thinks he’ll make it.”

All the tension seemed to evaporate. Leo sunk down in one of the chairs, and Raph wrapped his arms around April, hugging her tight. “Thank god… Fucking hell…”

The doctor came out, looking at all of them before sighing. “Well, I do want you guys out of here as soon as possible, but he’s not well enough to be moved, and your, what, brother? The talky one? He’s a bit woozy, so I guess they’ll be staying.”

“Then we are too,” Leo told him quietly. It wasn’t a question, and the doctor sighed again, deeper, but didn’t argue. Instead, he walked over to stand in front of the police woman, waiting until she glanced up at him before he spoke, voice tired, shoulders slumping, hands in the pockets of his dirty white coat.

“Now will you get therapy?” he asked, obviously gathering breath to keep arguing that point. He didn’t have to. She nodded, looking down again.

“First thing tomorrow.”

Doctor Jordan looked a bit confused at that, glancing around before letting out a small “Oh.” He rubbed his nose, continuing. “I thought that was going to take some more convincing. You’ve been pretty adamant.”

The woman snorted, but it lacked humor. “I just shot a civilian. Someone who was trying to help me… A kid. How old are you lot, sixteen?”

“Nineteen in four months…” Leo mumbled, looking at her with that face Raph could never quite read.

“Yeah, I shot an eighteen year old kid who was saving my life. I’ll take therapy, I’ll take a fucking desk job until I’m cleared. I’m not ok… I knew I wasn’t, I just couldn’t... “ she choked, trailing off.

The doctor reached out, awkwardly, patting her shoulder. “It’s ok, Zoe… Just… Go home, get some sleep. I’ll clean up this mess. I’ll make sure nothing happens to him. Go.”

She stood, slowly, looking at all of them, before settling on Leo. “Guess I live then.”

He smiled a little, drained of humor. “I guess you do.”

She stepped forward, holding out her hand. “I’m Sergeant Zoe Rita Espinoza. And if you ever need anything, remember that I owe you.”

Leo looked at the hand for a long moment, before he took it, shaking it. “We will.”

She nodded at him, then at the rest of them, and started to walk towards the door. When she reached it, she turned, and asked. “What’s his name, your brother?”

Leo seemed reluctant, so Raph answered. “His name is Donatello Hamato.”

“Donatello Hamato,” she repeated, like she was carving it into her soul. Then she slipped out the door, and was gone.

Jordan let out a deep breath, digging out a flask from his pocket and taking a deep swig. “I won’t tell you to forgive her, but I will say that she never meant to hurt him, and that she has her reasons… The shot one, Donatello, he’s out, but your other brother is awake, you can see him.”

The others filtered inside, but Raph lingered. He hated himself a little for doing so, but he stepped over to the doctor, nodding at the flask questioningly. Jordan looked him up and down, then handed it over.

It burned going down, but it eased that cold, cramped feeling in Raph’s chest. He handed the flask back, nodded thanks, and went inside to see his brothers.

 


	5. Barefoot on a summer night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people connect in new ways.

Mikey hugged her. Karai had sort of had the feeling he would, but it still surprised her. He was a good hugger, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tightly, but not squeezing too much. She hugged him back, and realized she’d wanted to do that for a long time.

“Welcome home, sis. We were worried about you, you know,” he told her as he let go. She smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be away that long again,” she promised. She glanced down at the two foxes peeking out from behind him, the ones that had been playing in the picture from the article that had brought her here. She had no idea how old they were; she guessed older than five and younger than ten.

“Youta, Natsuki, this is Auntie Karai. Say hi to her.”

Shyly, the one with the white paws reached out, hand an odd mix between human hand animal. She took it, very seriously, kneeling down to be at his level.

“I’m Youta Hamato. Hi, Auntie Karai. Where have you been?” he asked her, and she smiled back at him.

“I’ve been traveling. I’ll tell you all about it later, I promise.” She was promising a lot today, but hey, she was making an effort here. The other kit reached out as well, other hand fisted tightly in Mikey’s loose jeans.

“Natsuki… Are you going to live here now?”

“Yes, Natsuki, I think I will,” she nodded, Mikey beaming at her. She stood up straight again, looking at the doctor standing slightly behind them. She bowed, getting the feeling he wasn’t big on touching. At least not strangers.

“I’ve heard you are a very good doctor. I’m grateful for what you’ve done for my father.”

He nodded shortly at her, smiling vaguely. “Yeah. Heard a lot about you too. And don’t mention it; I like the old geezer, wasn’t just gonna let him kick the bucket. Not if I could help it.”

Mikey gave him an adoring smile, kissing his cheek. The smile on the doctor’s face turned softer, kinder. Then he bent down, scooping up the little kits. “Okay, who wants to watch cartoons and eat cereal? I want to watch cartoons and eat cereal. Let’s go!”

He walked them into the living room, out of sight. Karai smiled after them. “You have a wonderful family, Mikey.”

He grinned, slinging an arm over her shoulder. He was the only one of them that wasn’t taller than her now.

“You mean _we_ have a wonderful family,” he corrected her. She leaned against him, nodding slowly.

“Yes. We do.”

 

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It had started to feel like a bizarre dream by the time he showed up.

Zoe Rita Espinoza had been riding a desk and going to therapy twice per week for almost three months the day she came home to find a turtle on her fire ladder. She unlocked the window, stepping back to let him in.

It was the one in the blue mask, with the swords, the one who’d been ready to murder her in cold blood for his brother. The other one, she had a feeling, would have done it with fire. But this one was cold. He seemed wary, glancing around, not turning his back on her as he slowly walked into the room.

“Can I help you?” she finally asked, trying not to sound sarcastic. “How is your brother?” Jordan had told her they were fine, that he’d seen them off when Donatello had recovered enough to move.

“He’s a bit pissed at being locked in the lair until he’s fully healed. He can breathe properly now, his ribs have healed, but there’s still the muscle damage to worry about. But he’ll recover, we always do.”

She smiled, undoing her heavy belt and laying it on top of the dresser that held her small safe, gun thunking heavily against the wood.

“Good. I was worried about him… Jordan said your ribs are fused with your shell, that’s why his breathing was so off… I…” She didn’t know what to say, so she stopped, slowly sitting down on the edge of her couch. “So, can I help you with anything? I’m guessing this is not a social call, seeing as you hate me and all.”

He glanced at her, before going back to looking around.

“There are no pictures,” he mused, elaborating when he saw her confused look. “Of family, or friends… I’ve followed you for two days. You go from here, to work, to the store, and then back home again. You don’t talk to anyone unless it’s a professional reason. You’re alone.”

She fisted her hands in her lap, glaring at him. “I’m aware. Have you come just to point out my living situation to me? I don’t really need it.”

He smiled, only a little, and only for an instant, before he walked over, digging something out from his belt. It was a picture, a rough one, like from a security feed. “Can you figure out who and where he is?”

She took the picture, raising an eyebrow. “Why?” she asked, looking it over, mapping it out and committing it to memory.

“He has something of ours, something dangerous. We need to find him before he sells it. All we need is a name and an address; we’ll help you arrest him if need be, but you have to let us go in first. The object, it’s dangerous.”

She nodded, folding the picture up. “I’ll find him. I’ll tell you where he is, and I’ll make sure to give you time to get whatever it is you need.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Espinoza,” he told her, earnestly. She smiled up at him.

“Will you tell me your name?”

He hesitated, longer than was polite, before digging up a small object from his belt, handing it over. “Leonardo. Donnie made you this, so you can contact us.”

The thing in her hand looked like a pet turtle had a baby with a flip phone, which she guessed was in a sense what had happened. She nodded, looking up as he continued.

“The other one that was with you when… Well… His name is Raphael. And then there’s Mikey. The girl’s name is April, and the boy is Casey. I guess you might as well know that.”

She nodded again, standing up. “I’ll look into this guy first thing I can. And thank you, Leonardo.”

He hesitated again, steeling himself it seemed, before he asked what she’d known he’d eventually ask.

“What happened to you? To make you so afraid?”

She looked at him, this strange creature in her living room, this armed mutant boy, and she did the last thing she’d expected to do.

She told him.

 

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Donnie had never had a doctor’s appointment in his life before, and he found them quite exciting. His brothers and the doctor in question less so.

“...And I suppose the biology must be very different but from what I can tell, most of our organ placement and muscle structure is similar to humans. Of course, I haven’t ever seen an X-ray of any of us, but I’d sure love to; it would help immensely… are you sure I don’t need one?”

“Yame,” came a soft order from the corner, and Donnie bit his lip sheepishly.

“Sorry, I’ve just… never met an actual doctor before. Sorry, I’ll be quiet.”

Jordan laughed softly, removing the last stitch slowly, before standing up properly and putting down his tweezers. “It’s fine. It’s a bit refreshing actually. Most people that come here are dumber than a sack of bricks. I’ll X-ray you… want to see how the inside of your shell is shaping up, if the cracks are healing.”

He smiled at Don’s excited grin, before glancing over at the huge rat sitting mostly quiet in the corner. “I could give the lot of you a once-over… I’m guessing you’ve never had one.”

“I have, when I was human. It was a long time ago,” the old rat informed him. “But if you wouldn’t mind. I’ve always been afraid my sons would get sick, and that I would be unable to help them. I would much appreciate it, Jordan-sensei.” He bowed his head, Jordan feeling strangely proud. The old man had an air about him that made Jordan want to impress him. It had been years since he felt like that.

He had sold some of the equipment he’d bought when he was trying to start his clinic, but the X-ray machine had remained. Soon enough, the turtles were hooped around him, looking at the images he spread out over the table.

“This one’s Don, obviously…” He tapped the one with the cracked corner. “Hard to get a good shot of any internal organs, but there are your bones, or at least most of them. Last time I saw this many healed fractures was on a professional skateboarder. You guys live dangerously.”

They laughed, because Donnie was okay enough now that they could laugh at being in danger all the time. Then he pulled out one that looked vastly different. “And here we have your father,” he told them, letting Don pull it close to look at it. He answered his questions, reminded of the interns he’d had once, and even answered some of Mikey’s questions as well, even if they were a bit silly. He was curious at least, and Jordan found it uplifting. The brilliant smile and the sheer amazement in the boy’s eyes didn’t hurt either.

It was while pointing out the base of Master Splinter’s tail that he noticed something, leaning closer to look. He wasn’t sure, and any other day and with any other patient he might not have cared. But he did today. So he stood, walking over to the seated rat, leaning down to look at his eyes.

“I’m going to ask you some questions. I know that your first instinct might be to lie, to seem strong and to protect your sons, but I’ll remind you that I’m a doctor, and that I might be able to help you.”

Splinter glared at him, fists tightening on the top of his cane, but then he nodded once, in permission. Jordan took a deep breath, reaching out slowly to turn the rat’s head to the light, looking closer at his eye.

“The whites of your eyes are turning yellow. I’m guessing what little bare skin you have has also taken that shade. It hurts when you walk, when you piss, when you’ve eaten.”

“You have yet to ask a question,” the rat told him sharply as he retracted his hand, stepping back.

“Am I wrong?” he asked. Splinter looked like he wanted to say yes, but he didn’t. He said nothing. And finally he looked down. Jordan sighed, something clogging his throat when he spoke. “I’ll run some tests, if you’ll let me. I’ll figure out what’s wrong. I’ll get you whatever medication I can.” There were some choked curses and a whine of surprise from behind him; the turtles’d had no idea their father was sick.

“We can not pay you,” Splinter told him, and Jordan felt something like anger, something like pride flare up in his chest. He’d felt proud of himself, once.

“I didn’t ask to be paid. I’m a doctor, it’s my job.”

“I thought you were in disgrace,” Splinter shot back, with a hint of dry humor to his tone. Jordan straightened his back, suddenly feeling confident. This was him, this was what he did.

“Fine. I’m a doctor, it’s who I am,” he amended. “They can revoke my license, they can take away my clinic, they can drag my name through the dirt, but I am still a doctor. I help people, it’s what I do. And damn it all, I’m going to help you, and you’ll just have to fucking live with that.”

He grabbed a lidded cup from the counter, holding it out. “Fill this, then I’m taking a blood sample.”

Splinter took the cup, standing. He looked Jordan in the eye so long he almost apologized, and then Splinter suddenly turned away, walking out the door with a short “Hai.”

He blinked in confusion, glancing at the turtles for a translation. Mikey grinned.

“Means yes.”

He relaxed a little, nodding. “Thank God.” Mikey stepped forward, smiling at him.

“No, thank you. For saving my family.”

He smiled back, shrugging. “Thank you, for reminding me what I am.”

Then he turned away, starting to get ready. It felt good, it felt right. This was what he’d wanted, this was what he wanted to do. And he’d damn well do it too.

 

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April let Karai hold her son. Karai was a bit surprised about it, but April did put the little copper-haired child on her lap, stepping back. “Mind his head,” she instructed, perhaps not overjoyed, but clearly not opposed.

Jones seemed more unsure, sipping his coffee while never taking his eyes off Karai. It was fine, it was a work in progress.

Raph wasn’t happy either, but he was quiet too, making pancakes for brunch. She had a feeling that if she hadn’t been here, the mood would have been lighter, more laughing. Finally, Donnie sat down next to her, wiggling his fingers at his son, asking.

“So, will you tell us what you’ve been up to while you were away?”

She glanced around, eyes falling on Leo, who was sitting with his cheek in his hand, gazing adoringly at her. He didn’t even try to cover it when he saw her looking, just smiled wider, making it impossible not to smile back.

“A lot,” she mumbled, Donnie rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I assumed, but we have all day, and I for one am curious.”

She laughed, the little boy in her lap smiling and waving his arms at her. “Well, okay. First, I went to Tokyo…”

 

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Mikey had this level figured out by now. Run jump kick duck run jump climb jump crawl banana jump run jump Leo…

“Hey! Leo! Back off, I can’t see the screen!”

Leo didn’t move however, just help out a paper in front of Mikey’s nose, waving it to catch his attention.

“Explain this, Mikey,” he demanded, his brother trying to see around him. Man, he was going to have to do the whole level over again!

“It’s a newspaper, you use it to potty train puppies… Now move!”

Leo whacked him over the face with the paper, dropping it in his lap. “First, explain this.”

Mikey grumbled, pausing the game and looking down. Right at his own face. Oh.

“Oh.”

“What part of ‘ninjas aren’t suppose to be seen’ didn’t you get?” Leo asked, voice vibrating with anger. Mikey poked the paper down onto the floor, trying to shrug it off.

“It’s not like people don’t know about us…” he tried, before Leo went off again.

“It’s different when it’s rumors and hearsay and blurry pictures! This is clear as day! You’re posing, for God’s sake!”

So yeah, he might not have thought it through. They’d stopped a hijacking, Mikey had felt happy and brave. There had been a kid with a phone pointed at him, a look of wonder on his face. He’d waved at Mikey, and Mikey had waved back.

“Mikey, when we were nothing but rumors, no one had to do anything about us. But you’ve just confirmed that we’re real. Now, right now, someone is being tasked with finding us, and stopping us. Before this they had no evidence, just eyewitnesses.”

“Like a hundred of them…” Mikey pouted, but Leo was relentless.

“Mikey! You’ve put us all in danger! Do you understand that?!”

“We’re always in danger!” he snapped back, Leo looking a bit shocked. Mikey took the moment, getting up.

“We’re always in danger. Didn’t you notice that? I did! I noticed when the Kraang invaded, when we were hunted and attacked everywhere! When we had to flee the city! When Donnie was shot and we had nowhere to go! We’re always in danger, Leo! So yeah, I waved at someone who smiled at me, because at least now the picture they got isn’t of some weird shape in the shadows, it’s a friendly face helping out!”

Leo sighed, rubbing his temples. “Mikey…”

“No, we were always going to get caught, Leo. Everyone knows, literally everyone. At least this picture will show we can smile.”

But Leo just shook his head, and Mikey could see him gathering up for the next explanation of why he’d done a ‘bad thing’. He decided to skip it.

“I’m going out!” he snapped, ducking around his brother, grabbing his skateboard and bolting for the exit.

“Mikey! Don’t!”

But he was already out of the lair, and Leo might be able to catch him eventually, but Mikey didn’t care. He was so out of here.

 

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The doctor looked particularly hung-over and tired, squinting at him for a long moment before opening the window all the way, letting Mikey inside.

“Not enough to be the day's headline, you wanna be tomorrow's too?” he asked, Mikey sighing, dropping his skateboard on the floor by the window.

“Ugh, not you too… I came here to escape Leo’s grilling, man…!”

Jordan smiled, closing the window and letting down the blinds. It cast the top floor of the old fire station in a dim half light, making it look even more eerie than it already did. There wasn’t much there: a ratty couch, a TV with a Playstation on a wooden crate, a single folding chair at a camp table in the huge kitchen. It looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. Mikey sat down on the couch, looking around.

“Not much, I know,” Jordan mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I used all my money setting up the clinic, was going to furnish the place when I started making money. But dealing with street kids and gangsters, I barely make enough to pay this place off and keep myself fed.”

“That’s rough, man…” Mikey pouted. “You’re a really good doctor. Doesn’t seem fair.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow at him. “You of all people should know that life is never fair.”

Mikey was confused for a second, before the penny dropped.

“Oh, right. ‘Cause of the whole… mutant thing. Can’t go outside without making the front page… But hey! How cool is that? I only had to wave to get on the front page! Who can say that, huh? I’m a celebrity!”

Jordan actually cracked a smile at Mikey’s grin. “You amaze me,” he told the turtle quietly. “If I was half as positive as you, I might actually have done something with myself by now.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Mikey asked. Jordan sighed, walking over to sit down next to him on the couch.

“It was too much… I spent so many years of my life going to school, getting good grades, being an intern, taking every shift I could. I managed somehow to walk that fine line between ass-kisser and independent. Not a complete drone, not a complete rebel. I saved up all the money I had. I wanted to help people in this neighborhood, where I grew up. So I bought this place, and I was going to start a clinic… And then everything went wrong. I had a patient, and no one knows why, but they got the wrong medication, had an allergic reaction, and died. The hospital needed a scapegoat. The family had gone public, it was a national outcry… And since I was leaving, the hospital saw no reason not to throw me under the bus. I got my license revoked, my reputation was ruined… I didn’t have money left to take it to court. It wouldn’t have mattered. I lost. I was too tired by then to fight back. Still am…”

Mikey blinked slowly, taking it in. “That is… such bullshit! They can’t do that! That’s not fair!”

Jordan chuckled. “Yeah, as previously established, life isn’t fair.” He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “It’s fine. I get by… This way I can drink. And sleep until noon. Most gang wars take place at night, they come in bleeding around midnight… You were lucky this place wasn’t crawling with Purple Dragons when you got here.”

“You help Purple Dragons…?” Mikey asked, shocked.

Jordan gave him a hard look. “I help most people that come to me. Because if they come here, they have nowhere else to go.”

Mikey nodded slowly. He supposed that was right. Purple Dragons were human after all, they could die. And Mikey might not like them, but he didn’t want people to die, not even those thugs.

“You’re a good guy, Doctor Jordan,” he told him, leaning their shoulders together. “I’m really glad I met you.”

Jordan looked a bit surprised at the contact, but he didn’t move away. “I’m glad I met you too.”

They played games most of the afternoon on the ratty couch that creaked when Mikey jumped too much. When he got up to get them something to drink, he found the picture of him torn from the newspaper clipped onto the fridge with a few childish letter magnets in each corner. Something inside of him welled up and grew warm when he saw the letters Jordan had used, either on purpose or accident.

H. E. R. O.

 


	6. Through the jungle, Through the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breath before the plunge.

They were noticing it now, that Splinter was sick. Maybe he just stopped hiding it. Either way, all of them could see it. The little twitch of pain as he walked, how he preferred to tell rather than show the mistakes they made during practice. How he went back and forth to the bathroom several hours per night. He waved away their worries though.

“The medicine helps, with the pain at least. Do not worry, Jordan-sensei knows what he’s doing,” he assured them when they tried to bring it up. Since there was nothing they could do, they left it.

Mikey was still completely unapologetic about his stunt, and nothing Leo said managed to change it. He kept running off to see the doctor, to the degree that Leo would just remind him to pick up the refills for Splinter.

Donnie was away a lot too, especially during evenings. He’d leave with April and Casey after patrol, and come back just before dawn. But he was happy. They were all happy. He’d met with Zoe Espinoza, forgiven her. Leo still hadn’t told any of them why she’d done it, and Donnie had agreed that she could tell him when she was ready. Leo wondered if she ever would be. He was surprised she'd told him. He doubted he would have been able to tell anyone, had it been him.

Raphael wasn’t overjoyed, but he was never pleased so Leo didn’t bother. Raph could always find something to be mad about. Right now, he seemed to focus on being mad at Splinter’s fading health, the one thing he could do exactly nothing about. Leo let him be. At least he wasn’t being more reckless than usual. Overall, everything was fine.

So why was he so uneasy?

 

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Raphael was pretty sure this was, if not a bad idea, then a less good idea. But honestly, he was short of options. He listened as the door opened, the beeps from the alarm, the rattle of the chain, and the steps coming closer.

“Don’t shoot,” he said right before Zoe rounded the corner into her living room. “It’s just me…”

There was a pause, then she emerged, hand on her holster. “Is this going to become a trend? At least your brothers knock before coming inside,” she told him in a dry tone, leaning against the wall.

He shrugged from where he’d slumped down under the window, trying to focus on her but finding it hard. “Sorry… Leo will kick my ass if I come home this wasted, and my best friend is probably mid-coitus… So yeah, I figured you owe us enough to let me crash here for a few hours…”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re not legal enough to drink,” she pointed out, taking off her belt as she walked over to a dresser, opening it and pressing in the code on her safe.

“Girl, I’m not legal anywhere… I’m a mutant that lives in the sewers. Most people shoot on sight,” he jabbed at her, knowing he was being unfair. “I’ll drink as much as I want. I’ll drink until they let me fucking vote…”

She shook her head, but didn’t argue, putting her belt and gun in the safe, closing it. “I’m getting you some water. Do you need a bucket, or can you at least hold it?”

He glared at her, which she seemed to find unimpressive, and she left. When she came back, she had the glass of water promised, and she’d stripped out of her uniform into sweats and a tank top. She handed the water to him, and he drank it, more thirsty than he’d realized. She watched, before sinking down next to him, back against the wall.

“You can sleep on the couch, but call your family so they know you’re okay,” she told him. He fished out his shellcell, but he had no desire to talk to anyone, so he just fired off a text to Don, who’d be too busy to answer.

“There, happy now, officer?”

“It's sergeant, and yes, I am.”

They sat quietly for a long moment, before he finally spoke.

“Donnie forgave you.”

“He did,” she agreed, sounding as surprised as he felt about it.

“Leo says he trusts you…”

She didn’t answer that, just shrugged.

“Must have told him one hell of a story to make him okay with you shooting our brother,” he growled. She smiled, but it lacked joy.

“Did you know I’m Catholic?” she asked, throwing him off. It was hard to keep thoughts linear in his muddled brain.

“Uh, no…”

She bit her lip, staring at the floor like it was a cobra about to bite her.

“...One hell of a story. Sometimes it feels like a story, like it happened to someone else. Sometimes… Sometimes it feels like the only real thing that ever happened to me. Doesn’t matter, in the eyes of God, I’m damned…”

He had no idea how to answer that. How does one answer that? He looked down at his hands, picking at a scar on his middle finger.

“I’d be mad at you, no matter what Donnie said… But… Our dad’s sick.”

She looked over at him, waiting until he was ready to continue.

“He’s real sick, has been for a while, and we didn’t know. We wouldn’t have known until it was too late… But…”

He sighed, figuring this was why he was here after all, despite what he’d said.

“He would have died if we hadn’t met Doctor Jordan. He would have died, and we wouldn’t even have known what was wrong… So… Yeah…”

He couldn’t thank her, even though it felt like he wanted to. She seemed to understand, placing her hand on his shoulder before getting up, walking away.

“I’ll make up the couch for you, it’s more comfortable than the floor.”

He relaxed when she didn’t keep talking about it. That had been tough enough, no need to say more.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to say, but she’d left the room, so he didn’t know if she’d heard him.

 

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Donnie poked his head up from the manhole, checking that no one was around, before quickly getting out, hurrying over to the dumpster, climbing it and jumping onto the fire ladder, scaling it swiftly until he came to the cracked window, knocking shortly before slipping inside. He closed it completely, walking towards where he heard the news from the TV.

He found April on the couch, computer open, books and papers over the coffee table, and eyes glued to the screen. Judging from the sound of running water, Casey was in the shower.

“Hi, April, what’s…?” he started, but she hushed him, waving him over. When he got in view of the screen, he saw why.

“Is that Doctor Rockwell?” he asked, sitting down next to her to watch.

“... Been kept in hiding for too long! But we are people, even if the mutagen has made our bodies change! And we demand our rights! I demand to be treated like a person, like a professional, like a doctor! That we have lost our rights this way is appalling, and we’ll stand for it no longer! The mutant population of New York is a large one, and it consists of people from all walks of life! There must be an acknowledgement of this. Our changes appear permanent, only a few cases have been reversed, and it seems like the more time passes, the harder it is. I can live with my new form, but I demand a proper life!”

It cut to the studio, where the video that Rockwell appeared to have sent them was being debated. April curled up on the couch, and Don put his arm around her, letting her lean against him.

“It’ll be alright,” he told her, hoping that was what she needed to hear.

“I hope so…” she mumbled, before looking up at him. “Maybe it will be.” She smiled, poking his nose. “Maybe one day, you can take me and Casey out on a proper date.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss her. She wound an arm around his neck, kissing back. Suddenly, there were wet drops on the back of his neck, and he jumped back with a yelp. Casey smirked at him, dripping from the shower and with just a towel on.

“Hi there, D, whatcha doing there?”

Donnie glared at him, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a jerk… Now you don’t get one.”

“Aw, come on! I brushed my teeth and everything!” Casey protested, leaning in with his best attempt at puppy eyes.

“Nope. Sucks to be you,” Donnie refused, getting up. “I’m starting dinner, go find some pants.”

“Joykill! You’ll just tell me to lose them later!” Casey called after him, and Donnie had to bite his lip not to laugh. He wasn’t wrong…

His thoughts went back to Doctor Rockwell. This, on top of Mikey’s picture in the paper, it would change things. The people of New York had no choice but to deal with this now, deal with them. Rockwell had let them know that they were here to stay, that there were a lot of them. Things would change now.

Maybe one day he could take them out, like April had said. Go to the movies, have dinner, take a walk along the river. Stuff people did with the ones they loved. He hadn’t realized how desperately he wanted that before now. To be normal.

Both he and April seemed to be thinking about it that evening, both lost in thought. Casey sighed, taking the opportunity to put on one of his action comedies after dinner. Donnie didn’t mind, they were easy enough to follow, and he could keep drifting off.

Eventually, they’d have to go public, introduce themselves, before they were caught and dragged off to a lab somewhere, never to be seen again. They could still control what the world saw of them. How they’d enter the public eye. He’d have to talk to Leo about it, about how they’d come out. Because now, they’d have to. The time for hiding was over. They might be ninjas, but they were also the most well-known mutants, almost like superheroes, with people rooting for them. They had to use that before someone managed to make them dangerous, make them a threat. But tonight, he was going to relax, going to sit here and watch Casey’s movie, running his hand through April’s hair.

They’d deal with this tomorrow.

 

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During afternoon practice, Karai opted to stay in the apartment, rather than venture to the dojo that had been built in the warehouse that stood at an angle behind the fire station. Leo took the kids and his brothers, April, Casey and Zoe, and left, promising to be back shortly.

To pass the time, Karai walked around the living room, looking at the pictures that hung all around the walls. She felt rather than heard her father coming up behind her, for even in his old age, he was quiet. Like a mouse.

“That’s from the day Jordan-sensei reopened the clinic,” he told her, pointing at the picture she’d been looking at. It was taken just outside the door, a beaming Jordan being hugged around the waist by an equally happy Mikey.

“This one is from the first Mutation Day we celebrated here,” he continued. “And this is last summer. April’s water broke just two hours after this picture was taken. And here he is, little Joshua…” He sighed happily at the picture of the newborn boy, safe in his mother’s arms in a hospital bed. “Now when’s this from? Oh, right, it’s from the farmhouse, we took the kits out there to see some real snow. That was a lovely Christmas, we have to do it again.”

He continued, walking her slowly from wall to wall, pointing and telling, sometimes having to pause to remember, but it would come to him after a few moments. Weddings and birthdays and Christmases and portraits. Karai regretted slightly that she hadn’t been there, for any of it, but then again, she hadn’t been ready.

There was movement in the doorway behind them, but Karai didn’t turn. Not until there was a click from a shutter. She snapped her head around to look at Donnie, who was lowering the camera.

“The day you came back,” he told her, nodding at it. “It’s going on the wall.”

There was something warm in her chest at that. She’d missed the last few years, but she’d be a part of the rest of them.

“Want one with my actual face?” she asked, and Donnie smiled and raised the camera again.

 


	7. In the streets we're running free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breaking point

Raph decided to make dinner.

It felt a little bit strange, but honestly, it also felt like the least he could do. Zoe had left in the morning, telling him to drink and eat and be careful when going home. He hadn’t really felt up to dodging around in broad daylight, not with the whole city on high mutant alert. So he stayed, grabbed some cereal, watched her Netflix, ignoring his shellcell.

At seven, he figured he could make dinner, figuring he’d leave some for the sergeant as thanks for letting him crash. She’d been nice about it, without being overbearing. He was begrudgingly starting to realize he liked her. He was still not completely okay with the whole thing, but between Donnie forgiving her and Leo saying he trusted her, and the fact that without all this, Splinter would have been as good as gone, he was giving in. She’d have to make up for hurting his brother, but she’d get her chance.

He heard the door, the beeps of the alarm, and footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

“I’m making tacos! And before you call me out on the stereotyping, I’ll point out that you had all the ingredients at home!” he called out, not bothering to turn around. It was quiet for a second, then there was a high pitched scream. He turned around, finding not Zoe, but another woman, with the same prominent nose and curly hair, but in a smart suit.

“Shit…” he cursed, pulling the pan from the heat before holding out his hands. “Okay, relax. Everything’s okay… I’m a friend of Espinoza, okay? I’m guessing you are too. So let’s just…”

She turned and bolted, Raph sighing before going after her. He wouldn’t hurt her, but he really didn’t want her to bring the whole block to lynch the mutie.

The door opened just as she reached it, Zoe stepping in, freezing when she saw the woman coming towards her, Raph rounding the corner. The woman grabbed the gun out of Zoe’s belt, turning. Raph froze at the sight of the gun, heart stopping in his chest. He was dead. Zoe was shouting, reaching for the gun but she wouldn’t make it because the woman squeezed the trigger and....

Nothing.

Nothing happened. He was still alive. The safety was still on. The next moment Zoe tore the gun from the woman’s hands, throwing it away to bounce off the thick carpet in the hallway.

“Dios mio! Ana! What the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, pulling the door shut and slamming the chain on. The woman tried to dive for the gun but Zoe grabbed her, holding her back. “Ana, stop! He won’t hurt you!”

“What is that thing?! Zoe have you lost your mind?! What is it doing in your house?!”

“He’s a friend. It’s not safe for him outside in the daylight. Calm down,” Zoe told her firmly, letting her go to turn to Raph. “Raphael, this is Anita, my sister. Anita, this is Raphael Hamato.”

Anita was still shaken, looking with wide eyes between them, before crossing herself three times, wiggling loose.

“He’s one of those mutants… Hermanita, they are dangerous…”

Zoe rolled her eyes, walking over to pick up her gun. “You’re the one that’s dangerous… Don’t make my mistake, hermana. This one holds grudges.” She stood, giving him a small, flat smile. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.” She turned to her sister. “And I’ve told you to call before you just drop by. Honestly…”

Anita stood up straighter, pointing at Raph. “That thing, is an abomination. How do you expect to ever be forgiven if this is the company you keep?”

Zoe’s shoulder tensed, and her voice was small when she answered. “A hundred years ago, mixed race children like us were considered abominations… I shot his brother, hermana, and he forgave me. This one hasn’t, but he has yet to hurt me. He is no monster, he is another child of God, and I will open my home to him the same as I do for you.”

Anita shook her head, pulling the chain off the door. “God save you from yourself, hermanita, before it’s too late.”

“Don’t tell anyone he’s here,” Zoe warned sharply as Anita walked out. She paused in the doorway, glancing at Raphael, before she turned and slammed the door shut after herself.

Zoe sighed, placing the gun back in the holster. “I’m sorry. That was… I’m sorry.”

Raph shrugged, stepping back. “I’d freak out too if I found a monster in my sister’s kitchen,” he tried, but it still came out bitter. This was a grim reminder that humans, as a whole, didn’t like outsiders. Didn’t like those who were different. “Not that I have a sister…”

She smiled a little, walking over to carefully touch his arm. “Something smells great…”

The touch helped, a little. Reminded him that there were decent humans, even if they were few. “I made tacos…”

“I love tacos,” she grinned. “And don’t say anything, I know I’m being stereotypical…!”

“I wasn’t going to,” he promised, heading back into the kitchen to try to salvage dinner.

He ended up staying to eat with her, watching Walking Dead. They didn’t talk about Donnie, or Anita. It was nice. It was different from being with Casey, and his brothers. Zoe was calmer, without being as much of a drag as Leo. She’d laugh at funny headshots and didn’t keep repeating that zombies were unrealistic.

Close to nine, her phone went off. She got up to answer, voice suddenly much more official.

“Bukowski, don’t you know what time off means?”

Raph didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t listening, it wasn’t like she’d left the room for privacy or anything.

“...Really? Where? Right. No, you don’t have to… No, I’m coming with you in that case. No, come pick me up. Because you don’t know what it’s about, that’s why. Bukowski, just come pick me up. I’ll be outside.”

She hung up, looking over. “The guy Leonardo asked me to find, his name is Mark Stiller. My partner’s picking me up. Get your brothers.”

 

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Donnie was a bit surprised to see Raph arrive at the same time as the police car, watching from the rooftop as Zoe got out, arguing with the driver before closing the door and heading for the building. She glanced up, giving him a tiny nod and went inside.

“Let’s go,” he told his brothers, patting Raph on the back where he was trying to catch his breath. They climbed down, meeting her in the staircase.

“We have about five minutes before my partner gets bored with waiting and comes looking for me, so let’s move. I’ll draw him to the door and try to keep him there. Sneak in, look for whatever it is you need, and get out. And be quiet.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, shoving her lightly. “Come on, girl. We’re ninjas. We got this.”

She smiled at him, shoving back. “You figured out what windows led to his apartment?” she asked, Leo nodding at her.

“We got it, just keep him busy.”

“I don’t have anything to bring him in on, so you really need to hurry,” she stressed, before holding out her fist. They were still for a moment, before Mikey bumped it, swinging himself out the window again. Donnie tapped it lightly with his knuckles, following. Leo hesitated, but then did as his brothers had. Raph placed his hand over hers, before turning away.

“Be careful,” he told her.

“You too,” she answered, closing the window after them and heading towards the door.

They snuck around the side, clinging to window ledges and rain gutters, thankful for the fact that they were on the wall facing the alley, and thus the chance of them being spotted was slim. As they reached the window, they could hear voices from inside, one of them Zoe’s. Leonardo slipped his blade through the gap in the window, unlocking it.

The smell inside was mostly stale beer and cigarettes. Leo gestured for them to spread out, and they took one room each of the small apartment, moving quietly.

Donnie slipped through the hallway, behind the back of Mark Stiller, and slipping into the kitchen. He’d been quiet, but not bothered to keep out of Zoe’s sight. She didn’t falter, and he didn’t turn around. Donnie waited a moment to make sure, before starting to move through the dirty space, trying not to gag at the look of the overflowing trash and how sticky the floor was. He checked cupboards and nooks, behind the stove, in the oven (which seemed completely unused) and checked behind and on top of the fridge. Then he had a thought, and carefully, as quietly as possible, opened the freezer. There was movement in the hallway outside, Stiller telling Zoe to bugger off, in not so nice words, and Donnie hurried up, checking through the freezer as quickly as possible. The voices were getting louder, Zoe threatening to bring him in, which Donnie figured was code for ‘Get out, I can’t hold him’.

Then there was a crash from inside the apartment, and Stiller abandoned Zoe and made his way inside, cursing. Donnie ducked in under the table, which wouldn’t hold as a hiding place if he came into the room, but it would suffice if he just glanced inside as he passed.

He saw Stiller’s slipper-covered feet pass, followed by Zoe’s boots, and slipped back out, coming up behind her. She raised her fist by her shoulder, the police and army signal to stop. He obeyed, ducking into the kitchen again.

Stiller was shouting out of control now, accusing Zoe of trespassing, asking who else she had hiding in here, what she thought she was doing without a warrant. Then there was another crash, and Leo’s voice.

“He has it! Grab it!”

Donnie would have leapt out, but suddenly Zoe was covering the doorway with her back, snapping, “He’s got a gun!” before ducking inside as a bullet splintered the doorframe.

The bang made something quell in Donnie’s gut, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire, but the next moment he was shoved into the space between the fridge and the counter as Stiller appeared in the doorway, firing another shot.

Zoe ducked, and it shattered the window, hailing glass over her. Donnie could see the container they’d been looking for in his other hand.

Then Stiller grunted, cursing. “Screw this, I’m out…!” And he twisted the compressor at the end, releasing it with a hiss before throwing it into the kitchen and bolting.

Pinkish gas hissed out, and Donnie shouted. Then Zoe grabbed it, turning her face away as she twisted it shut again. For a moment he thought she was alright, but then she coughed, worse and worse, gasping for air.

Raph stopped in the doorway, moving towards her, but Donnie snapped, “No! Get him! I’ll deal with her!”

Raph took off, and Donnie hurried over, holding his breath. Zoe was grabbing at her throat, gasping in the thin puffs of pink that were filling the kitchen. He had maybe seconds, and the apartment wasn’t safe. So he grabbed her around the back and swooped up her legs, and jumped out the shattered window.

There were a lot more people on the street than he would have liked, and the drop was much further than he was comfortable with. A car broke the fall, a black and white one, and Donnie barely had enough wits about him to make sure he landed with his feet on either side of the lights on the roof. It rocked and dented under his weight, but then stopped.

Zoe gasped for air, sucking it in greedily, before choking out, “I’m gonna hurl…!”

He let her swiftly and carefully slip from his grasp, feet first, onto the ground, where she braced herself against the car and emptied her stomach. There were purple streaks in it, the colour of bruises, and Donnie got worried how much of the substance she’d breathed in.

Then there was the click of the safety coming off a gun, and he noticed the sirens in the distance, the crowd around them, and the police officer pointing his gun at Donnie’s chest.

“What the fuck did you do to my partner, freak?” he growled. That must be Bukowski. He was lanky, with a patchy beard and intensely blue eyes. He looked scared and angry, and Donnie raised his hands slowly, still squatting on the roof of the car.

“She’s breathed in a synthesized strain of mutagen,” he told him, as calm as he could be with the panic rising in him. He really didn’t want to get shot again. This wasn’t a dazed and confused Zoe acting on instinct, this was a steady, clear-minded police officer. He wouldn’t miss. “She needs a hospital, as quickly as possible.”

“Get off the car, mutant! Get away from her!” he ordered, and Donnie had a feeling he wasn’t listening. He slipped down, glancing at Zoe.

“I said back off!” Bukowski growled, before Zoe held out her hand, gasping.

“Wait… He’s…!” She got no further before she threw up again, knees almost giving out. Donnie reached out to steady her.

“Don’t touch her!” Bukowski snapped, just as two more squad cars pulled up behind him, more police officers getting out, more guns pointing at him.

“I’m just trying to help,” he told them calmly, voice shaking. Zoe took a deep breath, starting to stand but swaying. He took hold of her arm to keep her from falling, and one of the officers in the back yelled.

“Fire!”

Panic froze him. He was going to die, and he froze. Then there was a force, like a kick to the chest, and he fell sharply to the side, bullets hitting the car above him.

When he looked up, Zoe was still leaning against the car, and the only pain he felt was where his elbow had hit the ground. Every shot had missed him.

His relief was short lived when Zoe groaned, her face going pale, and she clutched her hand to her ribs. A drop of blood ran over her middle finger, falling to the ground. And then she followed.

There was a shout, and it wasn’t until later that Don realized it had to have been Bukowski. He lunged forward, catching Zoe enough that she didn’t hit her head. Bukowski was there the next second, turning her over to press one hand down on the wound, his other one grappling for the radio.

“Officer down, I repeat, officer down! Request an ambulance immediately!”

Donnie tuned him out, putting his hands on either side of the police officer’s, trying to judge how bad it was. He had read up a bit obsessively on gunshots while being grounded, so he was better prepared than he would have been. There was no exit wound, but there was something troubling about her breathing. Not the gasping coughs from before, something deeper, much more troubling. It took him a few moments before he figured it out, digging in his belt, pulling out a scalpel, ripping open her shirt.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Bukowski snapped, Donnie not bothering to look up as he tried to remember the few stray pieces of information he needed for this.

“Her lung is punctured, and now air is filling her chest cavity, pressing against her other lung. Every breath she takes is suffocating her,” he informed him as calmly as he could. He was running out of calm, he really was. Bukowski grabbed his gun, but didn’t raise it.

“I’m not about to let you cut my partner…”

“If I don’t, she chokes herself to death. So shoot me if you want, it won’t be the first time. But I’m not letting her die,” Don snapped at him, before stabbing down hard between her ribs. There was a hiss, not unlike the sound the canister had made just a minute ago, and Zoe’s next breath was much deeper, filled with relief. Donnie’s fingers turned to jelly, fear finally, actually settling in. He was in the middle of the street, guns trained at him, and Zoe was not out of danger yet. So much for controlling the situation.

Bukowski touched Zoe’s face, patting it lightly, getting a small frown. “Thank God…” he breathed, before looking around. “Stand down. And find that damn ambulance!” He ordered, half of the officers lowering their guns slowly, one going for his radio. Bukowski looked at Donnie for an intense moment, before leaning Zoe’s head in Donnie’s lap and standing up.

“I mean it! Stand down! And who’s bright idea was it to shoot my partner, huh?!”

“She jumped into the fray, the freak pulled her!”

Don glared at the man who’d said it, the one still aiming at him. Bukowski stepped between them.

“That’s not what I saw. I saw you taking fire at an unarmed man helping a fellow officer, and you decided to shoot him without provocation.”

“Why the hell would Espinoza protect…? Ma’am! Stay behind the line, it’s not safe!”

Donnie looked up as a young woman kneeled beside them. “I’m a nurse, let me…” She kept glancing up at him, but kept arranging Zoe so she could breathe and instructed him to keep pressure while slowly an ambulance siren came closer and closer.

The medics seemed shocked and a bit scared when they saw him, but he pressed on anyway, telling them what she’d been exposed to and the nurse filled in with what she’d been able to determine.

As they loaded Zoe up on the stretcher and were about to load her into the ambulance, she suddenly reached out, grabbing Donnie’s hand. She cracked one eyelid open, smiling under the oxygen mask.

“We’re even…” she mumbled, voice frail. He smiled, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, we’re even,” he agreed, letting her hand slip from his as the medics wheeled her away. He needed to lie down, real bad. But there was no time. Because he was still in the middle of the street, blood on his hands, in the middle of a crowd, half of which was armed, and his only friend among them was being driven away.

The more trigger happy of the cops was still aiming his gun in Don’s direction, and he edged away from the nurse so she wouldn’t end up in the line of fire if he decided to try again. But suddenly she stepped between them, and the cop growled at her.

“Move away from him! He’s dangerous!”

She gave him a cold glare, before turning to Don. “Where’s your friend in the hockey mask?”

He was a bit thrown, blinking as he answered slowly. “He stayed home, he has an exam tomorrow… Needed to study. I’m sorry, have we…?”

She smiled, nodding. “You saved me from a mugging a few months ago. Thank you for that, by the way. I was a bit too shaken to say that last time.”

Then he remembered her, smiling back. “It’s what we do. I’m glad you’re all right.”

Bukowski stepped up to them, pointedly standing between them and the other cop. “You going to tell me what the hell my partner got herself into this time? God knows she never talks to me.”

“I’d like to get out of here, if that’s all right…” Donnie confessed. “I’m not used to this many… people.” He glanced around, and panic was really setting in now. He needed to hide, not be in front of this many, not with guns around. Where were his damn brothers?

Bukowski nodded, gesturing at the car. “Get in. I’m going to the hospital, I guess you want to check up on her too.”

Donnie nodded, but as he moved towards the car door, the other cop shouted, “What the fuck is the matter with you?! That freak is a mutant! He’s fucking dangerous!”

Bukowski whirled around, shouting back. “You just shot my partner! You! You’re the one here that’s dangerous! You’re the one still aiming a gun at civilians!”

“Bukowski, you’re not thinking clearly!”

“You’re the one not thinking clearly!”

“Get away from the damn thing!”

“Put down your gun!”

“No! Not as long as that thing breathes!”

Then suddenly something swooped out of the crowd, and with a flash of steel the policeman’s gun was cut in half, and he let it go with a yelp. Leo straightened out slowly, sliding his katana back in its sheath slowly.

“I’d like it if you stopped waving that thing around,” he told him coldly. “My brother has been shot by enough cops.” He turned to Donnie. “Where is the sergeant?”

“Brownstone there shot her. I’m going to the hospital if you feel like joining,” Bukowski answered before Donnie could. Leo nodded sharply, walking up to them, nudging Donnie into the car. Bukowski got in too, speeding away almost at a dangerous speed.

Leo leaned back, rubbing his temples. “I guess we’re out…” he sighed. “How was she doing?”

“Stable enough…” Donnie mumbled, starting to shake. All the things he’d faced, all the things he’d seen, and that had been the most scared he’d ever been. He couldn’t believe they’d gotten out of there alive. He glanced at Bukowski, who seemed just as shaken as he was. He nudged Leo, because he wasn’t sure he could talk right now.

“Thank you. For not letting them kill my brother,” Leo said quietly. Bukowski didn’t seem to have heard them, until he suddenly spoke.

“She told me she’d fucked up, a few months ago… That she wasn’t okay, was taking a desk job, signing up for therapy. She wouldn’t tell me what is was…” He glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “She shot you, didn’t she?”

Donnie touched the sun-shaped crack in his shell, nodding. “She didn’t mean to…”

Bukowski nodded, focusing on the road again. “Thank you, for what you did today… For waking her up enough to see that she needed help. Shit… God, this is so messed up.”

Leo snorted. “Yeah, it’s a weird day for us too.”

Donnie zoned out, not able to listen anymore. He needed a minute, several minutes, to deal with the last, what, ten minutes? If even? How does life turn around so swiftly? He leaned back, closed his eyes, and tried not to think at all.

 

His shoulder still ached though.

 


	8. Chocolate cake and Jesus Christ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals smell bad. (Also this chapter has trigger warning for one slur and mention of past rape. It's not graphic, but be warned.)

The smell of hospital didn’t sit well with Raph. Jordan’s clinic smelled different, homey, less potent. But this place smelled like sickness and disinfectant, like a washed corpse. It made him sick.

He and Mikey had slipped inside, avoiding the crowd of reporters at the door. Leo gave them directions, and they managed to largely avoid being seen until they came to a waiting area outside the ER. There they found Donnie with his face in his hands on a chair, a stoic looking Leo, a police officer with a patchy beard and a frightened looking nurse who was hugging the wall opposite Leo and Donnie. Mikey, being the empathic creature that he was, gravitated towards Donnie, sitting down next to him and putting his arm over his brother’s shoulder. Raph glanced at the humans, stepping up next to Leo.

“How’s she doing?” he mumbled, trying not to think about how badly he’d screwed up.

“She’s stable, for now. They’re repairing her lung, but it might take a while... “

Raph nodded, sitting down, looking at the policeman. “You Bukowski?” he asked, getting a short nod.

“Yeah… Andrew Bukowski. You’re…?”

He glanced at Leo, who nodded slightly.

“I’m Raphael… This here’s Leonardo, and that’s Mikey. I understand you met Don.”

Bukowski nodded, running his hand through his hair. “I guess… I… God damn, I really need Zoe to tell me how the hell this happened.”

“What’s wrong with us doing it?” Raph snapped.

“No offense,” Bukowski gave him a pointed look, “But I want my partner to do it. I figure she owes me that much.”

“She got in this mess ‘cause she figured she owed us… Owed me,” Donnie mumbled quietly from the corner. They all looked over at him, Raph getting a bit worried at the look on his face.

“You okay there, Don?” he asked, Donnie letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, sure… I’m okay. Just fine… Didn’t even get hurt.”

Mikey hugged him tighter. “It’s okay, bro… It’s not your fault.”

“It isn’t,” Bukowski told him, making them all look up. “It’s Brownstone’s. He’s the one that pulled the trigger. He’s the only one to blame.”

Donnie nodded slowly, looking down at his feet again. “Well… Everything’s changing now.”

Leo sighed. “It was changing anyway. Maybe, hopefully, we won’t be seen as monsters now.”

Raph snorted, looking at the frightened little nurse, giving her a grim smile. “You look scared. Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have a bullet to dig out of our friend?”

She grew even paler than she’d been before, trying to inch back without being obvious. Leo gave him a small shove.

“Stop it. Ignore him, miss. He’s an idiot, but he won’t hurt you.”

“Screw you, Fearless…” Raph snapped back, but it lacked heat. Leo didn’t even bother to retaliate, and Raph sat down next to Mikey with a sigh. “We fucked up… Shouldn’t have brought her along.”

Before anyone could answer, there was a commotion around the corner.

“No, miss, you can’t go that way!”

A few nurses appeared, trying, and failing, to hold April back. But April was having none of that, trained kunoichi as she was, and slipped between them.

“Donnie!”

Raph watched his brother get to his feet to catch April as she came barreling towards him, hugging her tight. Casey was only a few feet behind her, glaring at the nurses, before giving both of them a quick, tight embrace.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked, letting go but keeping his hand on Donnie’s arm. Raph nodded.

“Yeah, none of us were seriously hurt. Just Zoe…” He glanced at the nurse, who was looking at April like she had two heads. Humans. He was beginning to hate them.

“I guess I’ll call her sister… Not sure she’ll come, Anita is a special type of intense…” Bukowski mumbled, patting down his uniform for his phone.

Raph snorted. “Yeah, no kidding…” He noticed the looks he got, shrugging. “We met earlier this evening. She was not happy to see me.”

Bukowski groaned. “You’ve got to be shitting me… Did she bring up Hell? ‘Cause then I get why Zoe was in a pissy mood… Still, next of kin and all that. Should call Jordan too I guess…”

“I can do that!” Mikey told them, Bukowski looking surprised, either at the enthusiasm, or simply the fact that they knew Jordan, but didn’t ask, just walked away a bit to place the call.

Jordan was there in twenty minutes, insisting on checking Donnie over.

“What kind of a hospital gets in people who’ve been in a gunfight and doesn’t check them?” he muttered, snapping at the scared little nurse to get a wrap for Donnie’s elbow. When she came back, she had a tall doctor on her heels, who pursed her coral lips and looked at the scene.

“Great. Just peachy… I let the NYPD bring mutants into my hospital, and not only do they bring a hoard of reporters to our doors for me to handle, but now they’ve dragged you along too. Who in God’s name let you in here?”

Jordan plucked the wrap from the nurse’s hands, picking at it like a grumpy schoolboy being told off by his teacher. “I don’t recall you taking out a restraining order when you threw me under the bus, Lizzy. I’m clearly the only doctor in the building who’s going to do this.”

“You’re not a doctor anymore, and you’re not welcome,” the female doctor, Lizzy, told him coldly. Jordan looked strangely small in front of her, sharp contrast with his wrinkled t-shirt, unshaven face and messy hair. She had her lab coat over a tight blue dress, smart heels and every hair in place. As opposite as black and white.

“Zoe Espinosa is my friend, as you might recall… My best friend,” he muttered bitterly. “And so are these boys. I might not like Bukowski, but I guess he can stay…”

Lizzy interrupted him. “The only reason the lot of you aren’t dragged out is because that one…!” She pointed to Donnie. “…is already viral. This whole story is the only thing on the news anywhere right now, and the general take on the situation seems to be in their favour. So I won’t be the one throwing them out of here.”

“No matter how much you want to,” Jordan finished, heading back to Donnie to start wrapping him swelling arm. Lizzy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look at that, the faggot finally grew a pair.”

Jordan froze, tensing, before taking a deep, calming breath, and continuing to wrap the fabric around Donnie’s elbow. Bukowski got to his feet, looking like he was about to start something, and Mikey looked angrier than Raph had seen him for a long time. He was feeling a strong urge to wipe that smug look of her face himself, but Leo got there first, stepping in front of Lizzy, looking her in the eye without blinking.

“I’m grateful, I really am, that you’re letting us stay here, that you’re letting us support our friend. I appreciate that. But I would like to inform you that I don’t just owe this man the life of my brother, but also my father. So, it would be in your best interest if you walked away. Right now.”

She huffed, looking him up and down. “You’re not as scary as you think you are.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed, and his voice grew cold. “I’m a ninja. Trained like an assassin since before I could walk. I beat up gangsters as stress relief. If I wanted you to be scared, you’d be scared. But like I said, I am grateful. For now… Walk away, before I change my mind.”

She rolled her eyes, but she did turn and walked away, heels clicking against the linoleum floor. Bukowski made a rude gesture at her back, muttering, “I can’t believe you were married to that harpy.”

Jordan sighed, fastening the bandage. “She was kinder then. Not as power-hungry…” His voice was a bit frail and shaken, but his hands were steady at least. “Thank you, Leonardo. I do generally try to avoid her.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Anita didn’t show. Bukowski just shook his head when they asked. Instead, he took their statements of what had happened, to pass the time. The little nurse seemed to be there to keep them from making trouble, though how she’d stop them if they did was anyone’s guess. After about an hour and a half she finally relaxed enough to sit down. Raph decided to keep ignoring her.

Finally, after an eternity, the doors to the ER opened and an Indian woman in blood-stained scrubs walked out.

“Well, this is probably the most interesting crowd I’ve seen in a while. Which one of you is next of kin?” They glanced around, before Jordan raised his hand.

“Not kin, but I’m responsible for her medical treatments when she’s unable. How’s she doing?”

The surgeon smiled, looking tired but calm. “Whatever she breathed in helped. Tissue is already regrowing like it’s been days not hours. I was half tempted to sit back and just watch. But as it is, we sealed her up, and if there are no complications she’ll be healed in record time. In short, they’re both fine.”

There was a moment of silence before.

“Both?!”

Suddenly everyone was on their feet, and the surgeon blinked, biting her lip. “Um… Her and the baby? The four-ish month fetus currently growing in her abdomen? ”

Jordan paled, before turning around to kick the wall. “Fuck!”

Bukowski ran his hands through his hair, repeating, “Shit, shit, shit…”

Even Leo muttered a soft curse in Japanese, turning away.

“Wait, what? What’s going on? Why is this bad?” Raph asked, looking at all three of them before honing in on Leo. Leonardo met his eyes, before shaking his head and looking down.

“I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone…”

“I didn’t,” Jordan muttered. “Four months ago, Zoe forgot to lock the door when coming home. She goes to change, comes back to find three masked men in her living room. They didn’t take anything…” He punched the wall, hard. “But seems like they left something behind… Damn that girl! I gave her the damn pills, just in case. Why didn’t she just take them?!”

Bukowski sighed, sinking down in a chair. “She’s Catholic, idiot... She’d never forgive herself.”

Raph’s stomach was turning, and there was a white hot rage filling him. And shame. He’d broken in too. He couldn’t imagine what that had felt like. And she’d let him stay, given him food and a place to sleep. He felt like proper dick. Donnie made a small, strangled sound.

“I forgive her... I know I already did, but... Oh God.”

Bukowski eyed Leo, mumbling, “Can’t believe she told you. She didn’t tell me, I had to guess…”

Leo shrugged. “I don’t think she meant to. I think she needed to tell someone, and I was a stranger. Maybe it was easier...”

The surgeon cleared her throat gently. “So... Perhaps not the time, but she’s asking for someone named Raphael? He here?”

Raph looked up, slowly raising his hand. The surgeon gave him a smile. “Alright then. She’s a bit out of it, we have her on a pretty fine cocktail of painkillers and what nots, but you can see her if you like.”

He followed her through the halls of the ER, still not liking the smell overly much. He looked at the surgeon’s back, mumbling.

“You don’t seem overly fazed by this.”

She turned to look at him. “My parents have a shop, not five blocks from here. You’ve broken up six robberies there. I quite like you; without you they would have gone bankrupt by now. I have other reasons, but just know that for now.”

He nodded, holding out his hand. “Raphael Hamato.”

She took it, shaking it in a firm grip. “Reshma Chopra. Pleasure. She’s right in here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try and salvage some of the samples I managed to get from her lungs. If I can get my hands on whatever she breathed in... It could save a lot of lives.”

Raph thought of Stiller, whom the cops had probably fined and arrested by now, and the canister that they’d hid away before heading to the hospital. “I’ll see what we can do.”

She smiled, bowing her head shortly, and gestured for him to enter the room.

The lights were dim, and there were beeping machines, and the smell was even worse. Zoe was in the sole bed in the room, tubes coming out of her arm, both hands fisted in the sheet over her stomach. He braced himself, coming up to her.

“Hey…”

She looked up, pupils blown, slightly out of focus. “Raph…” She held out a hand to him, and he grabbed a stool, pulling it over to the bedside, taking her hand in his. She squeezed it, hard, but he didn’t complain.

“You sure you don’t want your partner or Jordan in here?” he asked carefully, but his voice felt so loud. He felt so big and scary all of a sudden. The emotional roller-coaster she’d taken him on, taken all of them on, for the past few months, and they’d had no idea what she was dealing with. “We could try to find your sister…”

“I don’t want Anita here… Don’t let her in,” Zoe groaned out, voice sounding odd, hoarse.

“Okay, no Anita, I’ll make sure to tell them… But you sure you’d not want anyone else…?”

She shook her head, as well as she could, drugged up and with an oxygen thing strapped to her nose.

“Right. Whatever you need…”

She smiled, grip easing up a little. “I told Donatello we’re even,” she whispered.

“I guess you are,” he mumbled. “He’s a bit shaken, so get back on your feet. I think he feels guilty.”

“He’s got no right feeling guilty over my decisions… They’re mine, not his…” she muttered, closing her eyes. The hand still on her stomach tightened, knuckles white. He reached out, putting his free hand over it.

A tremor went through her, tears spilling out her eyes, rolling over her cheeks, over the tube across her face, down to her neck. He watched her cry, watched her crumble. He had a feeling she had to, that it was like cutting rot from a festered wound. He waited until it ebbed out, running his thumb over her wrists.

“You’re the bravest person I know…” he told her, because what else could he say? That everything would be okay? That somehow, eventually, she’d be okay again? It would sound empty and hollow, and it wouldn’t help. She wiggled her hand loose, wiping her face clumsily.

“I don’t feel brave…” She looked at him again. “Jordan told you, didn’t he?” Raph nodded slowly, and she sighed, closing her eyes again. They were quiet for a long time, long enough for Raph to feel how tired he was. It had to be morning by now, well past sunrise.

“Last night was the first time in a long time that I felt safe…” She spoke so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. "Knowing you were outside my door… I felt safe… I could fall back asleep…”

He gripped her hand tighter, slotting her fingers between his awkwardly.

“Guess I’ll stay then, so you can sleep.”

She smiled, and eventually her breathing evened out. Raph watched her sleep, counting the heartbeats on the monitor. And waited.

 


	9. Never could be sweeter than with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brand new day

Leo was the one who walked outside to face the world. Donnie was too shaken, Mikey too insecure, and Raph wouldn’t leave Zoe’s bedside.

He had the feeling it would have been him either way; he was the leader after all. April went with him, and so did Bukowski. He felt a little safer flanked by them as he faced all the cameras. Suddenly the picture of Mikey came to him, the sweet, friendly smile.

At least now they know we can smile.

The only other clear picture of them was Donnie, Zoe’s hand slipping from his as she was carted away into the ambulance. It was viral, it was everywhere. Leo had a feeling it would be iconic, something for the history books. So far, they had been seen smiling, and helpful. He needed to stick to that trend.

He walked up to the small podium on the steps of the hospital, grabbing it to keep his hands from shaking. There had to be a thousand people there, all looking at him, recording him, judging him. It was terrifying. His face felt numb, his hands cold, his throat dry. But he had to do this, for his family.

“My name… is Leonardo Hamato. I’m nineteen years old. I was born and raised here, in New York, under your very feet. I have lived in this city all my life, and there is nothing I won’t do, nothing I haven’t done, to protect it.”

He paused, anxiety thick in his throat. He’d screw this up, he’d piss them off, he’d be lynched, his brothers killed, he’d fail. He looked down, away from all the people, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. What could he possibly say to these people to make them understand?

“I’m sorry… I never went to school… I never had to face speaking in public before this, and having your whole future, the future of your family, of all of mutantkind, hanging in the balance... Putting it bluntly, I’m nervous as hell.”

It was quiet for a moment, before there was a laugh somewhere in the crowd, and another, and another. Kind laughs, relatable laughs. He smiled, as well as he could, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe the way to show that they were human was to act human.

“So, yeah, I apologize. We figured since we’ve been outed, we’d take our chances. We’ve always been so afraid… There’s only been us: my brothers, my father, and me. But now there are more mutants, hundreds of them, and we can’t hide any longer. We need to come out of the shadows. Doctor Rockwell said as much yesterday. I agree with him. My father got sick recently, and if not for the kindness of our friends, we would have been unable to help him. We have nowhere to go, no government to ask for aid. We are Americans, New Yorkers, I’ve never even left this state, but we aren’t citizens. We aren’t even seen as people in the eyes of the law. But I want help for my father’s illness. I want my brothers to go to school. I want to help people not just secretly, in the shadows, but out here in the open, on the streets. I want to have a say in who runs this country, same as everyone else. Heck, I even want to pay taxes, help this country grow. I want to be part of this community that I have lived in the fringe of, protected, loved… My name is Leonardo, and I know I’m a mutant turtle, but what I want… is the right to humanity. I guess all I can do is ask you, the people I have fought to keep safe all my life, to grant it to me. Thank you for your time.”

He stepped back, bowed much more gracefully than his nerves should have allowed, and turned to walk back inside. April and Bukowski followed. Well out of sight again, April pulled him in to hug him.

“That was good. It was honest, and it was powerful,” she told him, patting his back. “Everything will work out, you’ll see.”

“Thank you,” he told her as he let go, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

She grinned, clasping his hand. “We’re a team,” she reminded him. “I’m always going to have your back.”

He nodded, squeezing it before letting go and turning to Bukowski. “You too. Thank you.”

Bukowski nodded, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’ll probably catch hell for this, but damn it, now the NYPD will have trouble not backing you up, after I’ve done it in public.”

“We don’t want you to get in trouble…” Leo started, but Bukowski shook his head.

“Some things are worth getting in trouble for. This is one. Besides, I have a strong feeling Zoe would have kicked my ass if I let you go out there alone.”

Leo smiled, patting his arm. “Let’s go see how she’s doing.”

 

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The decision of who was making dinner seemed to have been settled by sparring, and the lot had fallen on Don. Karai volunteered to help, which earned her a big smile. They settled on making udon, working side by side in mostly silence until Karai decided to speak.

“I did think this would be much harder.”

“What would?”

She continued slicing the beef, putting it in a pile to be fried. “Coming back. You accepting me coming back. I thought Leo’d be angrier… That all of you would be.”

Donnie nodded, chopping the vegetables for the other pile. “Well, we had to go through this process five years ago. We couldn’t wait for you to come back.”

“How do you process someone that isn’t there?” she asked with a snort. Donnie picked up an onion ring, spinning it on his finger.

“You decide that when they do come, there will be room. And we had to decide if we were willing to spare that for you.”

“And you did.”

“We did.”

They went back to preparing the food, Karai letting herself relax. She wondered if her wanderlust would set in. She hadn’t stayed more than a few months in one place for almost a decade. Would she be able to just stay here? At least she’d try.

“I don’t think I need my own room,” she told Donnie as she set the table.

Donnie laughed a little, pointing her to the next cupboard with glasses. “I guess you and Leo didn’t need that buffer period.”

“I think nine years is enough buffer,” she pointed out, making him laugh. This whole house seemed built on laughter. It was cluttered and messy and loud. She knew she’d get sucked in, knew she was already being sucked in. And then she’d be stuck, she’d have a family, a real one. A father, brothers, in-laws, nieces and nephews. Leo.

“I’ve been apart from him long enough,” she told Don, setting out the glasses on the table. “If I’m coming home, I’m doing it all at once, not little by little. I’m not giving myself the chance to slip away.”

“Would you?” he asked, putting down a bowl on the table. “If you had the chance?”

She sighed, not sure actually. She wanted to be here more than anything, but she was so afraid of it too. “Neither your wife nor your husband seem to like me very much. Not Raphael either.”

“It’ll come,” Donnie told her calmly.

“I don’t know why you trust me. Why Leo trusts me.”

He gave her a careful look, putting his hand on her wrist. “You know why we trust you, Karai.”

And she did. Deep down. She knew Leo had always seen her as someone that could be saved. That Splinter would always see the ghost of his daughter in her. She knew that what she’d done, the last thing she’d done for them, had made it impossible for them to see her differently.

She had dreams about that, still. Not so much nightmares, not anymore. It was the same every time. Leo on his back, sword out of reach and the Shredder, her father’s foot on his plastron, his blade raised to the sky. She’d never moved so quickly in her life, and she’d never truly managed to regret what she’d done. Not as her blade slipped between the plates of his armor, not as his sword fell out of his hand, not as he stumbled back, her name a wheeze on his last breath. She hadn’t regretted it, and maybe it was the shame of that that had made her throw her sword down, and run. And kept running. Until she finally ran back here. Home.

Don squeezed her wrist, before going back to the stove. “Napkins are in the third drawer.”

She got them out, starting to fold them, half expecting her hands to leave red blotches on the soft white paper.

 

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Life had gotten intense since Leo had appeared on TV. Debates were held, sometimes with a tone that implied that mutants either didn’t have television, or that they were too stupid to understand what was being said about them. Doctor Rockwell came on live to dispute such notions. Splinter absolutely forbade them from being seen again, and from joining the marches and protests. It was Donnie, of all people, who snuck out anyway, despite Splinter’s yelling afterwards.

“You didn’t raise us to sit here and let others fight our battles,” he’d defended, not the least bit ashamed.

“This is not a battle, Donatello!” Splinter had countered, tapping his stick against the ground for emphasis. Don had just looked up at him, looking more grown up than any of them had seen him before.

“Yes it is, Master Splinter. This might be the most important battle we’ll ever be part of. And I will be part of it. I know it’s dangerous, that’s the point.” Then he stood, without permission, looking their father in the eye. “I know you want to protect us, I get that, but we’re not children anymore, and we aren’t secrets. I’m going. And you can’t stop me. Just as they can’t stop us.”

Then he’d hugged their father tight, pulled on the coat April had given him, with pockets filled with bandages and small milk cartons because mace couldn’t be washed away with water. And he walked out into the protests and the riots to help. Raph followed, to keep him safe. Mikey and Leo stayed home, because Splinter looked too shaken to be left alone.

Raph was rarely home as it was. He came from training, and he stayed a few nights to watch movies and eat with them, but most of the time he spent with Zoe, helping her out. She was starting to show by now, and Mikey marveled at her round belly every time he went with Raph to see her. Donnie thought it was pretty interesting too, asking her billions of questions, what was happening right now, what was developing, how it felt. Zoe answered him patiently.

Even Leo was interested, letting Zoe put his hand on her stomach. He felt the taut skin under her shirt, wondering how she managed without bursting. She still had months to go.

“We never had this…” he mumbled, glancing around at the others before clarifying. “We were laid in eggs, remember? We probably never even saw our mother…”

Zoe smiled, patting his hand. “But you had your father. That’s something.”

He smiled a little, nodding. “Yeah, I guess th… Oh!”

He looked down at his hand, wondering if he’d imagined that. Zoe grinned. “Did you feel it? Quite a kick, huh? A ninja in the making if you ask me.”

He laughed with the others, and he felt that little nudge in his palm for the rest of the evening.

It was nice when they managed to get together. Not just his brothers home in the lair all at the same time, but when Casey, April, Zoe and Jordan could make it. Sometimes, even Bukowski came, when they were at Zoe’s. It felt nice, having friends.

 

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Donnie honestly didn’t know when he was supposed to have time to sleep. He still took practice with his family, more out of habit than anything else. He was out on the street more or less every day, sitting with the protesters, marching with his kind. He found so many that were sick, so many that had been cast out by their families. He sent them to Jordan’s clinic, because Jordan had promised to do what he could.

He spent most nights with April and Casey, helping them study, helping Casey apply for jobs. That mostly included keeping him motivated for more than five minutes at a time. He found a combination of food, threats and cuddles had the most desired effect.

And then, whenever he had time to spare, which was not often enough for his liking, he went to see Professor Reshma Chopra.

Reshma wasn’t a surgeon, as they had believed at the hospital when she was in charge of Zoe, but a professor in microbiology, and she had specialized herself on mutagen and its effects. She’d been called the moment Donnie had told the medics what Zoe had inhaled. Raph had told him what she’d said outside Zoe’s hospital room, that this strain of mutagen seemed to accelerate healing without mutating the DNA. He couldn’t very well pass this up, could he?

So there he was, in her lab, at around two in the morning, going over the latest tissue samples Zoe had given him. Since she was already affected, she’d figured they might as well make use of it. Reshma was thrilled and frustrated at the same time.

“It’s just difficult to figure out what part of her healing is due to the mutagen, and what is due to stem cells from the fetus,” she sighed, running her equations over and over again. “It happens all the time, that when a carrying mother is hurt, the baby will actually send out some of its own stem cells to aid the healing. It’s fascinating, but it makes me wish we had a more clear read on things.”

Donnie patted her shoulder absent-mindedly, following the little wiggling microorganisms under the lens. “We can’t inject anyone else with it, mutagen is highly unstable…” he reminded her.

“I know.” She huffed, tossing her pad onto the cluttered desk. “But I still wish we could.” She leaned back, watching him work. “I should pay you,” she finally mumbled as he looked up, rubbing his tired eyes.

“What?”

“I should. It’s mostly your previous research we’re using to move forward; without it I would have been lost for years before getting this far. And you’re here all the time, doing so much ground work. I should pay you.”

Don smiled tiredly at her. “You don’t have to. I’m just glad I can do this. I’ve never had so much actual equipment before, it makes everything easier. Besides, it’s not like you can legally hire me. I’m not a citizen, and I’m a teenager. I haven’t even been to school.”

She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes at him. She was a small woman, but Donnie had seen her lift things even he would have trouble with. Short, with hair long enough that she’d accidentally sat on her braid more than once. And wicked sharp. He’d learned more with her than he had in any of his online classes. “True,” she smiled, leaning forward. “So, pick a school.”

“What…?”

“A school, a college. Pick one, any one,” she urged him.

“Why?” he asked, feeling too tired to try to keep up.

“Because I’ll write a letter of recommendation, right now. I’ll get you into whatever college you want, so just name it.”

The world felt like it was spinning. College? Him, go to school? “I can’t afford it… We can barely afford anything.”

She waved him away before he even finished. “I’ll sponsor you. Or sign you up for a scholarship. Or both. Don’t worry about that.” She reached out, taking his hand. “You are a brilliant young man. Smarter than most graduates I get in here, no contest. You deserve an education, and you deserve to be recognized for the work you do. So, name a college, or I’ll just write a letter to every single one in New York.”

She was serious, he realized. Reshma joked a lot, but not about this. He had a chance to go to school? To learn, for real? To get a degree? He choked up, and it burned in his eyes, so he covered them quickly with his free hand.

“You’d do that?” he asked, voice breaking. Reshma chuckled softly, stroking his shoulder.

“I will. Of course I will. If I do nothing else worthwhile in this life, at least I can do that.”

And he cried. Because as much as he had wanted April, as much as he’d wanted his family safe, as much as he’d wanted a chance to help people, he’d wanted this more. His small, selfish wish. And now it was just handed to him, just like that. It took him several minutes to calm down enough to thank her.

Reshma handed him a few tissues, waiting for him to catch his breath. “I came to New York when I was eight years old,” she told him. “It was hard, learning a new language, going to school. I could count rather well, but I could barely read and write. I knew I had to work hard, harder than anyone, to get anything. So I did. I studied every day, I worked so hard my parents got worried about me. But I managed to graduate, to get into a small public college. It wasn’t the best, but it was something, it was a step forward. And then one day, we had a guest lecturer. He was rude, and not very patient with us, so I was very worried when he asked me to come to his office at the end of his run. But he simply told me I was wasted there, that I needed to go to a better school. I told him I already worked two jobs and still had trouble making ends meet. He just huffed and sent me away. The next day, Columbia called. My tuition was paid for in full, I could start the next semester.”

She smiled, leaning back. “Can you guess who that lecturer was?” Donnie shook his head slowly, and she grinned wider. “That was Doctor Rockwell. He did that for me, a girl whose class he’d taught for not even three weeks. It didn’t matter much to him, he wouldn’t let me pay him back, he barely speaks to me when I do manage to find him. And now the world is trying to make light of him, trying to make him out to be less than what he is, and I will not stand for it. I can’t repay him for what he did, but if I can do the same for someone else, help this cause, then that will do. So, Donatello, pick a college.”

Don wiped his face, trying to process what had just happened. Then he thought for a few moments. “Well… April goes to Columbia too…” he mumbled, Reshma nodding.

“Guess it was fate then.”

 

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Karai sat in Leonardo’s window, smoking the cigarette she’d bummed off Zoe. Dinner had been lively, bedtime even more so. But now it was quiet, everyone asleep, the house quiet. She watched the tree planted in the middle of the yard behind the house, watching the leaves sway in the wind.

Then, out of the tunnel leading from the street to the yard, came a figure. It was a teenager, she guessed, with a duffle bag and their hood pulled up. They crossed the yard, heading for the building she knew housed the dojo. He got to the door, and she heard a few scrapes before it opened and they disappeared inside. She put the cigarette out, placing it carefully between the flower pots outside Leo’s window and was just about to jump down when he spoke from the bed, not moving.

“Don’t worry. They’re allowed.”

She blinked, she’d thought he was sleeping. His breathing was still so calm. “They?”

“We leave the bottom floor of the warehouse open, for street kids. So they have somewhere to sleep. No one else should have to sleep in the sewers…”

She smiled, shaking her head and closing the window. Then she crawled back into the bed, sticking her cold feet under his calf.

“Just how saintly are you going to turn out to be?”

Leo breathed out a laugh, putting his arm over her.

“We just don’t want anyone else to feel as lost as us. Everyone should have somewhere they can go. It’s the least we can do.”

She stroked his cheek, before closing her eyes. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

 


	10. Geez, you’re something to see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connections are made

Raph knocked on the window, even though he knew Zoe was sleeping by now. He slipped inside, closing it behind him, and started to make his way towards the kitchen. It was four in the morning, he could see what she had in, starting to prepare a lunch for her to bring to work. Then he heard a sound.

He crossed the apartment, coming to her bedroom door. He wasn’t sure what to call that sound. A muffled scream, a whine? Either way, it was distressed, and he slipped inside, walking over to the bed.

She’d told him she slept poorly since she had to sleep on her back these days. Her stomach was getting big, her chest was sore, and the baby wouldn’t stop kicking if she slept on her side. And she still had nightmares. Raph was starting to wonder if they’d ever go away.

She was tossing back and forth, cover kicked down to hang off the foot end of the bed, hair sticking to her face with sweat. He should have hurried, should have gotten there sooner. At this point, he couldn’t just lull her into a more calm sleep like he usually did, without waking her. So he braced himself, put one hand in front of his face, using the other to touch her shoulder. “Zoe…”

Her arm shot out, knuckles clapping into his palm hard. “It’s okay Zoe, it’s just me…” he told her, taking her hand, lowering it. She stared at him in panic for a few moments, before relaxing, sinking down on the mattress.

“I’m sorry…” she choked out, but Raph just shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I woke you, but you were about to fall off the bed,” he told her, gathering up the cover and turning it over, cool side down, before pulling it up over her. She caught his wrist, hand still shaky.

“Stay?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be right outside…” She shook her head before he finished.

“No, I mean here,” she explained.

He had no idea how to answer that. He’d slept next to exactly four people in his life, ever, and none of them had been a woman. None of them had ever made him feel this good and as guilty as he had over the past few months. But when she pulled gently on his arm, he got on the bed, laying on his side next to her, her long fingers curled around his thumb.

“Thank you,” she mumbled in the dark. He just smiled, squeezing her hand. She closed her eyes, breathing slowing. He lay there, watching her face in the dim light the curtains couldn’t keep out. He had started to feel like the worst person in the world when he looked at her.

He couldn’t help it. He was a boy, and she was beautiful. She was strong, and she was warm and she was kind. Her hair was the softest thing he’d ever touched. And he felt so guilty, for being just like the people that had hurt her, for looking at her like they must have. He should go, leave her alone, but when he was gone more than a day, she’d text and ask if he was alright. If he’d gotten into trouble, if his family was safe. Making her worry felt even worse, so he came back. He did his best not to look, and he didn’t touch her if he didn’t have to.

He’d thought she’d fallen back asleep, but suddenly Zoe spoke in the dark.

“I wish there was someone else…”

“What?”

She opened her eyes, looking down at her huge body, running her hand over her stomach. “I wish there was someone else. Someone I could tell them about. Someone I could point to, tell them it’s their dad… Just so I don’t have to explain… So I never have to tell them there are monsters in this world.”

Raph gulped, reaching out slowly, so she’d have time to stop him, time to pull away. “They’ll have to learn sooner or later,” he reasoned, resting his hand next to hers. His heart skipped a beat when he thought of the small life in there.

“But it’ll be too soon…” she sighed, something watery in her throat. “They’ll be too little, and I’ll have to lie… I don’t want them to know. What if they hate themselves? How terrible would you feel? To know something that horrible made you…?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on his hand. “Tell them it’s me.”

He heard her turn her head, could feel her looking at him. He’d never seen eyes like hers, brown in a circle of green. The notion of drowning in someone’s eyes had been ridiculous until he saw hers.

“Tell the baby that I’m the dad. I know I’m still a monster… But…”

She rolled over on her side, facing him. “Nothing about you is a monster,” she told him firmly, touching his cheek. Her hand was almost burning hot against his skin. “Raphael, you’re more human than most people I’ve ever met.”

He didn’t believe her, who would? But he still smiled, moving closer to rest their foreheads together. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, asking, “Did you mean it?”

He nodded, taking her hand. “Yeah. I mean it.”

She squeezed it, before letting out a small chuckle. “I can’t believe I got knocked up by an eighteen year old.”

Something tight that had had a hold of Raphael’s chest suddenly snapped, making him feel lighter, like it was easier to breathe, laughter bubbling up in him too. “I’m nineteen, you hag.”

“You weren’t six months ago,” she shot back with a snort, before groaning, hand going to her stomach. “Great, we woke the baby…”

Raph sat up, moving to rest his head on her hip, stroking her stomach. “Hush… Mommy needs her beauty sleep. Or at least a few hours so she doesn’t murder everyone at work. Hush…” He rubbed circles onto her skin, humming low. Zoe reached down, laying her hand against the back of his head.

After a few minutes she whispered, “They’re asleep… Or at least still… They like your voice.” She met his eyes, smiling softly, eyelids drooping with sleep. “I like your voice too.”

He didn’t answer, just kept humming, watching her fall back asleep. He stayed there, hand on her stomach, feeling the little life in there move in its sleep, marveling over the trust she showed him. He promised himself, right there, to never, ever make her regret that.

 

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Leo had been running. He ran a lot these days, needing something to do with all his pent up frustrations. So he ran, he climbed the sewers and tunnels through the city, hardly slowing down. He flew over rooftops, through alleyways and abandoned subway stations. He wasn’t even all that worried about being seen anymore, he’d heard more than one surprised gasp in his wake. He didn’t care, what was the point? His interview was still trending, and every time he watched it he thought of a thousand more things he wanted to say. And so he ran, until his muscles cramped and his breath stopped short in his throat.

He came home then, tired, but somehow there was still something restless inside him, something that made it hard to relax. He almost missed the times when they’d had real foes to fight. Things were much easier when the threat was a someone, not a something. You could punch a someone…

Donnie was in, sitting in the living room, looking more down and worried that Leo had seen him for a long time. Don’s life had been turning out great, with dates and a job and fighting for equality. Leo walked over, touching his shoulder. “Hey… What’s wrong?”

Don sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Mikey is crying in his room, and he won’t tell me why, just told me to heck off…”

Leo raised a surprised eyebrow, sitting down next to his brother, wrapping an arm over his shoulders. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Don shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Which is why I think something is very wrong. But I have no idea what it might be.” He looked guilty, and it took a moment before Leo figured out why. Mikey and Don had always been close, Donnie was usually the person Mikey confided in. But Don hadn’t been home much, and they hadn’t really talked for a while. Donnie had been busy with his own life. He hugged his brother tighter.

“It’s okay. Let him calm down a little. He’ll tell you what’s up…”

Don shook his head again. “No, I’m real worried about him. Can’t you try and talk to him? Just figure out what’s upset him so much… Maybe it’s me. Maybe I did something, and…!”

Leo stopped him before Donnie had a chance to run away from reality on that particular brain-train. “No, I doubt that. I’ll talk to him. Just relax.”

Donnie did relax, at least a little, sighing. “Please? I just… I don’t like it when he cries.”

Leo didn’t like Mikey crying either. Mikey was a happy person, it took such extreme things to make him cry for real. He gave Don a small squeeze, before heading over to Mikey’s room, knocking twice before slipping inside.

It was dark, or as dark as Mikey’s room got since he’d discovered that you could hang Christmas lights in your room. Leo made his way carefully through the mess, sitting down next to the rolled up pile of covers. “Hey…”

There was a small, sniffed whine from inside the pile, and Leo leaned carefully against it. “Wanna talk about it? No pressure, but Donnie thinks he did something, and he’s low-key freaking out about it… Just want to make sure I wasn’t lying when I said it probably wasn’t his fault…”

There was a small sound from deep within the covers, and Leo smiled. “Yeah, figured. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe you’ll feel better?”

The pile was silent, so Leo just patted it gently. “Okay. Want me to leave?”

It was quiet for a while, before a green finger poked out, wrapping around Leo’s. “Okay. Take your time.”

The covers slowly folded aside, and Leo felt a twinge of worry. Mikey was so rarely genuinely upset, it threw him off to see it. He looked so small, and Leo couldn’t resist the urge to wrap him up in a hug, covers and all. “It’s okay… Whatever happened, it’ll be okay.”

Mikey shook his head, sniffling, before choking out, “No, I messed up this time. I messed up really bad, Leo…”

Leo smiled reassuringly at him. “We can fix it. It’ll be okay.” But Mikey just shook his head again, ducking into the covers.

“No. Can’t fix this. I broke it… I messed up so bad, I’m so stupid…”

Leo hugged him tighter, leaning his cheek against Mikey’s head. “How about you tell me what happened…?”

Mikey bit his lip, having to take several deep breaths, before he looked up at Leo, eyes still welling over with tears.

“I kissed him…”

 

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Jordan Antero Jaakola sat on the rickety chair on his balcony, emptying his fifth beer, trying to find that numbness he usually looked for at the bottom of a bottle. So far, it was eluding him. It was a testament to how wasted he was at this point when he didn’t even flinch at the large, armed shadow landing silently next to him.

“You know… I actually figured that by the time I noticed you, you’d have that shiny sword of yours through my ribs…”

Leo moved into the low light emitting from the kitchen door, leaning against the wall. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Yet…” Jordan smirked, without humor, taking the last mouthful, dropping the bottle onto the concrete floor, picking up number six. Suddenly, the aforementioned blade slapped down on his wrist, resting there. Then Leo flicked it, and the metal cap joined the others on the floor. Jordan raised the bottle in thanks. “Feel free to grab one. If there are any left…” he offered, Leo shaking his head.

Jordan drank while Leo came to sit down beside him, shell against the rough brick wall. They were quiet for a long time, before the doctor figured one of them ought to start.

“Guessing you’re here about Mikey.”

Leo nodded. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened… He’s just crying, saying he messed up. Since I can’t get a word out of him, figured I’d ask you.”

Jordan sighed, taking another sip. “He kissed me,” he admitted, voice tense. Leo looked at him until he squirmed. “Cut it out… It’s not like I asked him to. Or led him on… I just… I figured you guys spent your whole lives hidden away. I figured he was just excited to have a friend… I didn’t…” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry…”

Leo picked at his knee pads, thinking of Mikey crying in his room. “He likes you… And it’s not just ‘cause we don’t have many friends. I know he likes everyone unless they give him a really good reason not to, but this isn’t the same thing.”

Jordan let out something between a laugh and a huff. “The year you guys were born, I was in high school. I lost my virginity before you guys could walk… There’s something messed up about that.”

Leo narrowed his eyes, looking at the doctor. “Are you saying Mikey’s wrong for liking you… Or are you trying to convince yourself you shouldn’t like him back?”

Jordan’s face closed off, and he emptied the rest of the bottle in one long swig.

“Well, that’s a yes,” Leo snorted.

Jordan glared at him, putting down the empty bottle, but he didn’t pick up a new one. “I’d actually welcome a stabbing… I feel like shit.”

“I’m not going to stab you,” Leo informed him, Jordan huffing in disappointment. “Mikey’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.” He looked on as Jordan flinched, before hiding his face in his hands. “I find it kind of amusing that your problem isn’t with him being a mutant turtle, or even that he’s a boy… It’s that he’s fifteen years younger than you.”

“...I guess I’m just a freak that way,” Jordan muttered into the palms of his hands.

Leo smiled a little. “Jordan, you’re the only one who cares. I just want my brother to be happy, and he has been lately. It doesn’t matter what mood he’s in when he leaves, when he comes back from hanging out with you, he’s calm, and happy, and I want that for him all the time.”

Jordan looked at him for a long moment, before asking, voice flat, “Makes me wonder about the person that makes you calm and happy…”

Leo’s first instinct was to lie. To say there was no one. But he’d never been very good at lying about her, had he?

“Her name’s Karai… She’s Splinter’s biological daughter.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a story.”

Leo shrugged. “It’s pretty long…”

Jordan took a deep breath, standing up. “Then join me in the kitchen, and tell me. I’m gonna need a moment to sober up anyway.”

So Leo sat on the counter in the cave-like empty kitchen, telling Jordan about the girl he loved while the doctor threw up six bottles worth of beer, drank a liter of water, and gulped down twelve packs of yoghurt. When he’d brushed his teeth and changed shirts, he patted Leo on the shoulder.

“Okay. Let’s fix this. Well, I’m going to try to fix it, I guess there’s not much for you to do but wait, huh?”

Leo smiled, nodding, and then led him to the nearest manhole cover.

 

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Jones coached a hockey team. It seemed to consist largely of homeless teenagers that slept in the warehouse. Upon Karai’s inspection, she found it had three floors. Top one was converted into a dojo, with nice, open spaces, dark wooden floors, rooms for meditation and storage for their various weapons, all framed by the floor length windows.

The second floor was storage, and Donnie’s lab. It was filled with things, not just mechanics but also some of his biological experiments. “The non-hazardous ones,” he assured her.

The bottom floor was divided into sections. There was the garage, for the cars and bikes, then most of the rest was taken up by beds. Lines and lines of bunk beds, that then gave way to a sort of common area with sewing machines and a makeshift kitchen, and then a large bath with several shower stalls. It was teeming with youngsters, none of whom gave her a second glance as she walked among them.

Since it was summer, the team had taken to roller skates, and were busying themselves on the courtyard, Jones dividing them into teams before starting a match, the goals made up from garbage cans, the lines painted in faded chalk on the concrete. Several of the other homeless kids had come outside to watch, sitting on the patch of grass under the tree, offering support and advice in the form of shouting.

Karai observed them from the loading dock attached to the back of the house, until she was joined by April, her son dozing off in the long scarf she’d tied into a sling for him.

“It keeps them clean. They have to be sober to play, he has a no tolerance policy. It goes for the whole house.”

“Who keeps track?” Karai asked, looking at the small smile on April’s face as she watched her husband.

“They do. They know we have a hard time keeping the permits we need, they know if they use drugs here, we have to shut down. So they are always vigilant, and Jordan is always willing to help them kick their habits. So far it’s working. Social services come by regularly, try to get them to go back home, or back in the system. Until they do, or turn eighteen, they can stay here though.”

“There’s quite a few mutants,” Karai observed. April nodded, stroking her son’s hair.

“There are still outbursts of mutagen. And some people are carriers, even if it doesn’t show, only to have it turn up in their kids. The amount of mutant babies abandoned here makes me want to cry.” Karai reached out, carefully, stroking some of the little baby’s hair from his ear. “It must be hard, your child turning into something else… But yeah, I could never give a child of mine up.” She looked away, out over the courtyard. “But then again, I’m not exactly human.”

April looked at her for a long moment, before putting her hand on Karai’s arm. “You’re home. Here it doesn’t matter what you are. Just who.”

Karai glanced at her hand. “You still don’t like me. You try, for the others’ sake, but you don’t fool me.” April retracted the hand, sighing.

“No, I don’t. But you’re here, and you’re staying. And I might be bitter over the hurt you’ve caused me and those I care about, and it might take a while for me to deal with that, but I’m going to give you your chance.”

“Suppose that’s all I can ask for,” Karai mumbled, watching one of the girls sitting by the tree get up, walking over. She couldn’t be a day over eighteen, but she was heavy with child, looking ready to burst. She waddled over to the door, giving them a small wave before going inside.

“She told us her name’s Emily,” April told her, probably just to break the silence. “Won’t tell us anything else, not her last name, not who the father is, nothing… She’s got a job, online, some sort of programming; Donnie set her up. She’s hoping to be able to afford an apartment by the time she has the baby.”

“Poor thing,” Karai mumbled, not really focused. “I guess you can’t do much more for her if she doesn’t let you.” As April kept talking, Karai only listened with half an ear. There had been something very familiar about that girl, and yet she could not figure out what.

 


	11. Holy moley me oh my

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where things begin.

April found Don curled up in the corner of the couch, staring blankly at the pad in his hands, thoughts obviously a million miles away. He’d been like that for days now, and honestly, it had grown old. So she plopped herself down on the armrest, leaning on him until he gave way enough to let her slip down on the couch.

“Hey… What’s wrong? And don’t say ‘nothing’. It’s obviously something, or you wouldn’t be so down. Come on.”

Don sighed, flipping the cover onto the screen and leaning back. “It’s not important. I’d rather not talk about it.”

There was a slight dip in the backrest, and Donnie looked up to see Casey hovering above him, looking uncharacteristically concerned. “Come on, D. We can tell it’s something. You know we’re not just gonna let it go.”

Donnie tried not to smile. He was realizing more and more how lucky he was to have people in his life who insisted not just on his good days, but to be part of the bad ones as well.

“Columbia wouldn’t have me.”

The silence was almost deafening, April slowly wrapping her arms around him, leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

“Fuck ‘em,” was Casey’s contribution, before he vaulted over the back, flopping down half on Donnie.

“Eloquent.”

“I mean it!” Casey insisted, looking up at him. “Well, not literally; between me and Red that should be covered, right? No, but I mean, fuck ‘em. Forget about it. They don’t want you, fine, they’re not worth it.”

Donnie did smile at that, leaning down to kiss his forehead before leaning back against April. “I just… I wanted it so bad. And when Reshma told me she’d write and recommend me… I guess I just…” He trailed off. April leaned in, kissing is cheek.

“There are other schools. One of them is sure to accept you. Eventually…”

She was cut off by Donnie’s shell-cell buzzing on the table. He glanced over. “It’s Raph… I’ll call him back, I need a minute,” he sighed, letting the cell ring until it eventually fell quiet. Two seconds later, the same sound came from April’s pocket, making him frown. “Okay, it might be serious…” he admitted as she answered.

“Raph? What’s up?”

She was interrupted by a scream loud enough that her boyfriends heard it, looking up at the phone.

“Raph?!”

“It’s happening!”

April blinked. “What…?”

“It’s coming! You have to get here now…!” he shouted, before there was another scream in the background.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” April asked, trying to untangle herself.

“The baby!”

All three of them froze, staring at the phone. “Oh shit…” Casey mumbled, before all of them jumped from the couch.

 

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Since Zoe had been subjected to this strange strain of mutagen, Reshma Chopra was attending the birth. She, Jordan and Raph were let into the very clean room, the two latter taking their stance on either side of the woman, letting her squeeze their hands and mutter curses at them, mostly in Spanish.

“Si uno más de ustedes hijos de puta me dicen que empuje …”

“Babe, maybe don’t curse at the doctors…” Raph tried to suggest, before Zoe glared at him, snarling, “I’ll curse at anyone I want, so you just shut your pizza hole…!” Then she was cut off, almost breaking his hand as she screamed in pain.

“She should be much further along by now…” the doctor muttered. “The contractions are coming right on top of each other, but there’s no sign of the baby.”

“Get this baby out of me!” Zoe demanded. “I don’t care how, just do it!”

Reshma elbowed her way in, leaning down to have a look. “You’re not showing any signs of dilating at all… It’s like your body has no idea it’s giving birth.”

“Oh trust me, it knows…” Zoe squeezed out between clenched teeth.

“Does it have anything to do with the mutagen?” Jordan asked, making Reshma frown.

“It might not. Oh damn, I should have seen it…!”

“Seen what?” Raph asked, watching her mull something over for a few seconds.

“I need Donnie,” she finally said. “Your body has no idea what’s happening. It didn’t expect to give birth. That’s why we could find no other mutation, this is your mutation.”

“What, being pregnant?!” Zoe snapped.

“Yes,” Reshma nodded. “With all that entails. That’s why we found no real change in all our cell samples. The mutagen you breathed in didn’t change you, it preserved you.”

She had to stop, to let Zoe scream again. She waved at one of the nurses to get Don, before going back to explaining. “You were pregnant, and hurt. The baby was sending you stem cells, to repair you. You’ve had minimal bruising, you haven’t been sick, you hardly have stretch marks. Because your body mutated to repair you. It makes new stems cells…! Oh my God, do you realize what that means for science…? If we could replicate…!” She was cut off by another scream, Zoe glaring at her.

“First things first, doc…!”

“Right! Your body is stuck in this state, so we have to operate. C-section is probably the only way to go.”

“I could not in good conscience allow that,” the doctor huffed. “She’s a perfectly fine woman, I’m sure with some more time…”

“Shut up!” Zoe snapped. “Cut this thing out of me! I can’t take this! Just do it!”

“Ma’am, the risks…!” the doctor started, before Jordan interrupted.

“…Are as high, either way! Trust me, she’s not gonna care about a scar, just get on with it!”

“But…!” the doctor started, before Reshma forcibly elbowed her way past him, despite reaching him barely to his shoulder.

“Oh, move! I’ll do it,” she told him, just as Don made his way in. “Perfect! Come here, you’re gonna help me figure this out!”

In the end, Raph couldn’t look. He just held her hand, looking at her face as his brother and his boss cut Zoe open. They had to clamp the sides apart, the edges almost instantly growing together. Strangely enough, it wasn’t the pain she reacted to.

“Oh my God, it itches! It’s driving me insane!”

“It’s your nerves reattaching and growing back,” Donnie supplied, Reshma with her hands literally dug into Zoe and Raph regretted looking.

After all that fuss, she seemed so very small when she was finally born.

3.7 kilograms, nineteen inches on the dot, all fingers and toes. She was, even covered in blood and mucus, the most beautiful thing Raph had ever seen in his whole life. His brother was more fascinated that Zoe didn’t need stitches, she just healed back up like it was nothing, but Raph much rather looked at the little thing resting on her chest, breathing in and out, kicking her little legs. She was so small under his big hands, and he had no idea how she could be alive, but she was and it was really hard not to cry.

He held her as Zoe was helped out of her bloody, sweaty hospital gown. The smallest creature in the world, with the biggest eyes, and the littlest hands that grabbed aimlessly at him. He understood so much now. So many things about Splinter that he’d found overbearing or unnecessary just fell into place. The urge to hide this little life away from the world, keep her safe at all costs, it was overwhelming.

There was something heartbreakingly beautiful about being able to put her in Splinter’s arms as well. Something furiously joyous about whispering, “Say hello to your granddaughter…” and watch his eyes fill with tears. Because Splinter had done his best, raising four boys in the depths of the sewers, giving them hope and love and joy every day of their lives. And he might have wished things for them, but Splinter had never, ever believed that the world would turn out like this. That he would hold another child in his arms, another baby Hamato.

“What will you call her?” he asked, finally, looking up at the exhausted Zoe, resting her head against Raph’s shoulder. “Raph got to pick the first name, and I picked the middle one…” she told them, looking at Raphael.

He smiled, stroking her damp hair from her forehead. “Her name is Adelita…”

She grinned, looking at her daughter. “Adelita Midori,” she nodded.

“…Hamato Espinoza,” Splinter finished, poking her little button nose gently.

And that’s how she was born, the first of many.

 

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Emily gave birth to a baby girl six days after Karai’s conversation with April. She was in labour over twenty hours, and Casey was with her most of that time. Karai learned that Casey had gotten her clean, had pushed her to get a job, instead of living hand to mouth. That Emily had played with the team for over a year, since before she got knocked up, and that Casey had helped her through every single step of the way.

“She reminds me of myself, you know. And I could have gotten in a lot of trouble if I hadn’t had the guys,” he explained, sitting outside Emily’s room while she tried to rest. “She’s had it rough, but it’ll be okay. She knows we’re here for her.”

Three days after the birth of her daughter, Emily left. She left behind a silver skull ring, a hoodie and her baby. Pinned to the hoodie she’d left wrapped around the little girl was a note. ‘Her name is Sara, and I am not strong enough to give her more than that.’

Karai chose not to tell anyone that she had been there, caught Emily as she left though the tunnel out to the street. She’d carried everything she owned in a duffle bag over her back, hockey stick in hand, hood pulled up over her blond hair.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Karai had asked, stepping out from the shadows Emily had just passed. The girl turned, looking terrified and furious all at once.

“I hear you could get blood clots if you start running around too soon,” Karai added, slipping out of the shadow she’d been standing in. The teenager just glared at her. The hand on her hockey stick tightened. This girl was fully prepared to fight Karai to be able to leave.

“I can’t do it,” she finally choked out. “I can’t look at her. I can’t hold her. I just want to smother her, stop her from crying. I can’t do this. I never wanted this.”

Angry tears rolled down her face, and Karai sighed. “I’m not going to stop you,” she told the girl, softly. It seemed to calm her, if just a fraction.

“They won’t understand. They all want a family so damn much. But I don’t. I don’t want her. I just kept her ‘cause by the time I realized I was knocked up I didn’t have time to get money for an abortion.” Emily looked past Karai, into the courtyard. “I don’t want to go. This is the only real home I ever had. And I don’t want to do this to Casey, but…” She looked down, curling into herself. “I can’t be a mom. I’ll hate her. I’ll always hate her. And no baby should have to grow up like that.”

“Like you?” Karai asked, as soft as she could. She took Emily’s shaky sob as a yes.

“Then go. We’ll take care of her,” Karai promised. Because she knew they would, soft-hearted pushovers, the whole bunch.

“Tell Casey I’m sorry,” Emily choked out, and then she turned, and she ran.

In the morning, when April was breastfeeding the little blond baby, asking how Emily could have just left her behind, Karai shrugged. She bounced Josh on her knee, mumbling, “She did what she thought was best.”

 

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“I suddenly understand why you stopped inviting me over…” was Zoe’s dry remark as she walked through the rooms of the old fire station.

“Had to pay the bills somehow,” Jordan muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I just thought…”

“How many rooms are there?” April interrupted, hanging over the banister, looking down the dark hallway.

“Um, a lot. Ten on this floor, plus the kitchen and bathroom. Same on all floors, I think… there might be a broom closet not accounted for,” Jordan answered.

“Can’t believe you got it as cheap as you did,” Donatello pointed out, peeking into one of the rooms. “Relative to its sheer size, I mean.”

“Me neither, it was nothing when I had a job. Now… Now it’s a lot,” Jordan sighed, turning to his best friend, who was cooing at her newborn. Leo was holding the little girl, rocking her back and forth a little. “You can’t raise Adelita in the sewers. And I know you’re still not comfortable in your apartment. It doesn’t have to be forever, I just figured…”

“Come on, Raph, you gotta!” was Casey’s point as he slid over the hardwood floors. “This place is awesome! I wouldn’t mind living here!”

“It is pretty cool…” Raph agreed, looking around. Living above ground would be something. Having pizza delivered to an actual address? That would be a game changer. He looked at his daughter, dozing off against Leo’s chest. “Which room, in that case?”

Jordan shrugged. “Any, either. I can move my bed out of that one if you want. I don’t care.”

“But I like your room!” Mikey protested, pouting. He’d already decided. He’s spent almost two decades with his brothers in the lair, he was ready for a little bit of change.

“Fine, any room but that one,” Jordan relented, smiling as Mikey slipped an arm around his waist. Raph found himself smiling at the sight.

“Close to the bathroom, I have to pee, like, all the time,” Zoe informed them, scattered calls of ‘ew’ and ‘tmi, sister’ following. “Oh hush, you bunch of babies, it’s natural,” she huffed.

As most of the little company went from room to room, Jordan and Leo stayed in the hallway with the snoozing baby. Leo had still not fully grasped that this was the same creature that was growing inside Zoe just weeks ago. It was almost magical.

“You know…” Jordan started, carefully, “if he wants, Splinter can come too. Living up here has got to be better than staying in the sewers. Less chance of infection… I could get to him right away if something happens.”

Leo thought about it. He saw the appeal, but a small part of him thought of how empty the lair would be with just him left. A lot of space for one person, sort of like Jordan had it now.

“Would you…” he started, not quite sure he was actually going to ask. “Is there any way… I can come too?”

Jordan blinked, before grinning. “Well, duh. I mean, I’m working under the assumption I’ll be having this whole crowd running in and out at all hours. Of course you can come. I mean, heck, I’d let all of you stay here if you wanted to.”

They took him up on that.

It took one month, three trips from the lair, one from Zoe, and one jaunt one from Casey and April’s cramped student apartments. One week out of the sewers, and Splinter already gained back some weight. It could also be Zoe’s cooking. Leo liked to think it was a combination.

That first night they were all there, sitting on boxes and layered carpets in the living room, eating pizza straight from the box, it was a pretty good feeling. Sure they’d been above ground a lot, stayed overnight even. But they lived here now, on the surface. It seemed surreal.

Suddenly, there was a flash and a whirr from the doorway, which turned out to be Jordan with a Polaroid camera. He grabbed the picture from it as he walked over to join them. “Something to remember. First day all of us were here.”

April leaned over, taking the picture. She scooted back, grabbing a piece of tape from the roll on top of a box, and stuck the picture to the wall. “There, your first picture. Can’t believe you went this long without decorating.”

“I have a feeling my minimalistic style is going to be overruled,” Jordan grinned back, gesturing to the piles of things.

“Good thing. We’re gonna make this somewhere one can actually spend some time.” Zoe patted Jordan’s cheek, leaving a dusting of flour from the pizza behind.

“Less like a house, more like a home,” Splinter agreed.

 


	12. I’ll follow you into the park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where things get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely Ravenshell has offered to beta, so now you won't have to put up with my lazy editing anymore! Enjoy!

It was Bukowski who was tracked down by the mayoral office, to deliver them a message. He’d gotten in a bit of trouble for standing behind Leo at the press conference, but some hazing and desk duty had been worth it, according to him. It helped that most of the force actually liked the turtles.

Now he showed up at the fire station, a very official letter of invitation in hand. “It was the most CIA thing that has ever happened to me, you know. I felt like I was part of a spy movie.”

Leo finished reading, handing the letter to his brothers. “She wants to see us. As soon as we’re able.”

“It’s a trap. There’s no way we’re going,” Raph snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Leo didn’t agree right away.

“It says she’d like to thank us for our services…”

“She’s not going to just let vigilantes run around her city, no way,” April pointed out.

“Yeah, but she can’t really harm us as long as the public is on our side,” Donnie pointed out. “Things are tense as is; if we suddenly go missing, people will notice now. I doubt she wants more riots on her hands.”

“I’m going,” Leo decided. “You don’t have to come…” he told Raph when his brother drew breath to protest. “But I will. She went through the trouble of tracking us down through contacts, instead of cornering us. So, I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Hey, if you don’t come back, we’ll come find you,” Casey assured them, leaning in the doorway. “We’ll find whatever neat little lab they try to hide you in.”

“Thanks for the visual, Casey…” Raph muttered, giving the other man a soft punch.

“Well then,” Leo sighed. “Let’s go see the mayor.”

 

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Victoria Hogh was a busy woman. Well into her fifties, she’d held her office longer than anyone had thought she would when she was first elected. She ruled the most diverse city in the world with an efficiency that bordered on obsessive, always up to the task at hand. Today, however, she’d been distracted. She’d been aware, of course, of the turtles, long before the public had. They had proven quite elusive, and she, like many others, had been under the assumption that they were just people in masks. Boy had they been wrong.

The boy that had stood in front of the hospital almost half a year ago had not been someone in a mask. He had been real. Victoria had shaken hands with Dr. Rockwell, had looked in his eyes. This was real. It was happening, in her city, in her lifetime. And Victoria was determined to be on the right side of history in this. Oppression was always frowned upon in hindsight. And honestly, looking at the mutants that had chosen to go public, it was easy to see that most of them were teenagers. They’d outlive her, they’d be the ones to write her story. She would like to be remembered kindly.

So when she opened the doors to her office, late that winter, and found four huge figures standing there in the dark, she did not panic. She waved away her security detail, and closed the doors behind her.

“It is very late, but I do suppose I didn’t specify a time. No one could tell me if you were nocturnal or diurnal, so I thought I should let you pick.”

She walked around her desk, turning on the lamp on top of it, casting a yellow light over her guests. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Leonardo Hamato, was it not?” she asked, holding out her hand.

“Indeed, Mayor Hogh,” he answered, voice soft and calm. He shook her hand, and she found it very neutral. He didn’t have his own heat like a human, or a mammal, but his grip was sturdy and his skin strangely soft.

“And these are your brothers then, I take it?” she asked as she let go, sitting down in her chair.

“Mikey, Don and Raph,” Leonardo told her, nodding at them in turn.

“How delightful. I’m very glad you accepted my invitation.”

“Ok, that’s enough of that, what do you want?” the stout one in the red mask finally asked, his taller brothers shoving and hushing him. Victoria smiled a little, braiding her hands together on the desk.

“I want you on my side,” she told them. Lying was going to be no help. She watched them blink at her for a moment, before continuing. “You are becoming symbols of the mutant uprising. I would like this uprising to be non-violent. Of course, humans are…” She made a face. “…bad… at accepting people who are not like them. But I will not be inviting another apartheid. I will not condone oppression of living, intelligent, sentient beings. So, I need you on my side.”

“And if we choose not to…?” the tallest asked, narrowing his eyes at her. She smiled softly at him, before pulling out one of her drawers.

“I’ve done my homework on you, you know. You recently applied to Columbia, didn’t you? I heard they turned you down. Very narrow minded people… Afraid of change.” She handed him a sealed envelope. “NYU has a different view on things. They have a spot reserved for you for next term.” All four of them looked at the envelope, Don almost shaking, almost reaching for it. But before he did, he steeled himself, looking her in the eyes. “Are you bribing us?”

She liked that. That tone of steel in him. Everyone she’d talked to about them seemed to either know nothing about them apart from how they looked, or they were very insistent on mentioning how kind and moral they appeared to be.

“Yes. I am,” she nodded. “Don’t worry. Not with money, I’m not willing to hurt anyone or do anything illegal. But I will give you four what you want, so that you can be the best you can be. You are going to be my examples of how the mutant population are going to interact with the human one. So, I will integrate you, and trust you’ll be on your best behaviour.”

They glanced at each other, not sure how to take that. But Don did take the envelope, and she could tell he would have been hard pressed to refuse. She could empathize, she’d worked hard and long to afford her own education.

“You’re going to set precedent,” Leonardo mumbled. “If one mutant can go to school, all of them can. As long as someone is first, the rest can follow.”

She nodded again. “I will admit, my cards are spent now. I have no idea what the rest of you might want or need. But if you tell me, and it is within my power…”

The smallest took a step forward, fingers playing nervously.

“Um, Mrs. Mayor, ma’am… Um, you see…” He glanced at his brothers, before taking a deep breath, blurting out. “You see, my boyfriend, who’s human and, like, so smart and so kind and I just love him to bits, he’s letting us stay at his house. But he can’t really afford it… he lost his job ‘cause the hospital he worked at said he made a mistake that cost a patient their life. I don’t know if you can do anything, but if he could get his job back... I mean, he’s such a good doctor and it’s not fair he couldn’t even go to court ‘cause he didn’t have the money…”

Victoria held up her hand, letting him trail off. “I can have the investigation opened again, and I can have my own lawyer take a look at the case. That’s all I can promise.”

His smile was infectious, she had to smile back. “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! You’re the best, Madam Mayor… Dude, I’m totally voting for you. I mean, except I can’t really vote… But still.”

“That would be a thing,” Leonardo suddenly spoke up. “If Donnie’s going to school, doesn’t he have to register…?” He fell silent when Victoria lifted a file from her desk drawer, placing it in front of him.

“Social security numbers, birth records for you to fill in, everything you need to become documented citizens of the United States of America. We have been working on these since your speech. I’m not going to lie, it was like pulling teeth out of a rabid alligator, but here they are. Leave them with my office when you’re done, I will push them through. Your wish is granted.”

Leonardo picked up the file, slowly, flipping through it with a look like he wasn’t sure what to think. Victoria left him to it, turning to the last one. “And you, my dear. Is there anything I can do for you?”

His brothers looked at him, and for a long moment Victoria was sure he wouldn’t say anything, but then, with his eyes on the floor, he mumbled something.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up.”

“I want to be a cop.”

His brothers looked as shocked at this as she felt. But she took it in stride, nodding slowly. “The police academy is open for anyone who doesn’t have a criminal record… I’m afraid the vigilantism will have to stop though. But I can make preparations for you, see what might be needed.”

He nodded, and she had the feeling it was as much thanks as he’d give.

“And in return you want us to… what?” Leonardo asked, closing the folder in his hands.

“I want you to be model citizens,” Victoria told them. “I want you to go to school, pay off your home, care for your families, get jobs, pay taxes… Vote.” She winked at Mikey. “I’m going to pave the way for you so I can hold you as examples for the rest of mutant kind. So, if there are any scandals in the making, deal with them. Like you said, Mr. Hamato, the future of your people rests on you now.”

“No pressure…” he mumbled. He looked down at the papers, grip tightening. “We won’t do anything else for you. You can threaten to take this all back, but we will never do anything but this. We’ll help this city, we’ll be good people. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Victoria huffed a little. “Trust me, I’m not going to extort you. I’ve seen what you do to your enemies. I have no desire to be one of them.”

“Then by all means, we have a deal,” Leonardo nodded.

“Good.” Victoria smiled, closing the drawer. “Go home, go over the papers and I’ll…” When she looked up, she was alone. “See you later…” she trailed off.

 

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Raph and Zoe had made an effort to take mostly the same shifts, so they could be home at the same time. Most times it worked, sometimes it didn’t. They were still very sweet, making an effort to exchange kisses and brief touches even when they didn’t speak. Karai wouldn’t have wanted to be in a relationship that physical, but she did admit they looked adorable.

Adelita was a sweet girl too, and while Karai wasn’t very fond of children, she did end up spending a lot of time with them since she was home so much. Adelita, being the oldest, was obviously the leader, and the kits copied her every move. She doted on her cousins like there was no tomorrow, and while she rarely threw tantrums, she was still very stubborn. Once or twice, she’d scream and cry, stomp her feet and slam the doors, but she’d be out again within the hour, crying and apologizing.

The biggest debate was the one that had sparked the day Karai arrived. She’d let her hair grow long in the front, reaching past her shoulders, but she’d kept the undercut, and dyed it red. It was fading now, her roots growing in, but Adelita found it amazing, and demanded she get to dye her own hair.

Zoe didn’t want her to, Adelita’s hair was thick and dark, and would need a lot of bleach before any colour would stick to it. Karai had offered to dye her own hair completely black, but Zoe just shook her head. “She’s got the idea now, it won’t go away.”

Finally, Zoe gave up, and with Karai as help they set about bleaching the tips of Adelita’s hair. “So you can cut it off if it turns out you don’t like it.”

“I won’t. Pink is the best colour,” Adelita told her firmly, clutching the jar of hair dye in her hands, grinning from ear to ear.

“Sit still, this is dangerous stuff! You can smell that, right?” Karai asked, standing beside her, carefully painting the bottom three inches of her hair with bleach. The kitchen floor was covered in newspapers around the chair Adelita was sitting on, and the girl in question was swaddled in towels. The kits were watching from the living room doorway, hands over their snouts. “It’s ammonia, and it’s very toxic. You have to be careful with it, it’s not for playing. If you get it on your skin, you have to wipe it off right away, ok?”

“Si, si…” Adelita mumbled, busy looking at the dye jar, stroking the glittery label.

When the process was done, Adelita stood for almost ten minutes in front of the bathroom mirror, turning her head this way and that, flopping her massive do over and over, her face stuck somewhere between sheer joy and amazement. Finally she jumped down from her little stool, throwing her arms around Karai’s waist. “Thank you! It looks so awesome! I look so pretty!”

“You always look pretty,” Karai assured her, patting her head carefully. “But yes, I admit pink suits you very well.”

Adelita grinned at her before running off, probably to have her cousins admire her. Zoe leaned her shoulder against Karai’s, sighing. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have had the guts to do it myself. I’m glad you helped. Hopefully she’ll grow out of it soon.”

“I don’t think she will, but hoping is nice, I guess,” Karai smiled back, getting batted on the arm for her trouble.

When Raphael got home, Adelita ran to met him, spinning around as she told her father the very elaborate story of how she’d gotten her way. Raph listened patiently, lifting her up on his hip as he walked inside.

“...And Tia Karai said I always look pretty, but she said pink suits me and that’s true because I look awesomely pretty, don’t I, papá?”

“Of course you do,” he assured her, before looking at Karai, sitting at the kitchen table, reading. She looked back, wondering if he was secretly mad, but then he reached out, ruffling her hair. “Nice work, sis. Will you do me next?” he smirked.

“Papá! You don’t have any hair!” Adelita laughed, Raph gasping, patting the bald dome of his head.

“What?! Where did it go? Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” he cried, making her laugh even harder. Karai couldn’t help but to snort, and when Raph ran his hand over her hair on the way out, flipping most of it into her face, it was still a gesture of affection.

 

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Jordan woke up to find Splinter crying in the kitchen. He had a moment, before the rat raised his head, when he thought about bolting, going back to bed and pretending he hadn’t seen anything. But Splinter had obviously heard him coming, and wiped the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry. Do not mind me…”

And Jordan couldn’t just leave, so he walked inside, carefully putting a hand on Splinter’s shoulder. He saw the papers spread out over the table, and frowned. “Hey, what’s the matter? Aren’t these…?”

“Documents, saying my sons are people,” Splinter filled in, something thick in his throat. “Legal beings, with rights and obligations. With names, legal names. Birthdates, birthplace… Everything I couldn’t give them. Everything I never thought they’d have.” And then his voice shattered again.

Jordan pulled up a chair, sitting next to the old man as he cried, stroking his back. Finally, Splinter calmed down, taking a deep breath. “I never dared… I was just focused on keeping them alive, keeping them happy. And now we’re here…” He gestured to the kitchen, to the big, sturdy table with the mismatched chairs, the fruit bowl, the coffee maker, the tea kettle, the cereal boxes, the phone chargers, the books and magazines, the big open windows with the slightly dry plants they’d managed to salvage from April and Casey’s dorms. “We live in a house. My sons have people they love, people who care for them. They are going to be educated by more than me and books I manage to fish out of the sewers. They’ll have jobs, they can marry… I have a grandchild.”

Jordan smiled, leaning against him. “I know,” he mumbled. “I know, a lot has happened. It is real, it is really happening. Everything will work out.”

Splinter nodded, slowly, running his hands over the documents, before gathering them up. “I will enjoy being a person again. I will enjoy it very much.”

Jordan helped him stand. “Come on, old man, back to bed. It’s not good to run around this late, you’ll wake the baby,” he told him, herding Splinter back. His answer was in Japanese, but Jordan felt the tone translated enough. He did make a note that he needed to pick up some beginner’s tapes. Apparently, he was living in a multilingual household now. Better get with the program.

 

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Karai had been home for three months and six days before the dam burst.

She’d known it would, eventually. While most of her family had accepted her back, no questions asked, April, Casey and Raph were obviously not happy about it. Raph, who Karai had thought would be the one to snap, actually didn’t. She didn’t know if it was because she made Leo smile like an idiot, because she got along so well with Zoe, or because Adelita adored her, but Raph’s anger seemed to fade the longer she stayed. She supposed it might be because he was older now, more mature. After the hair dye, he started calling her sis, like Mikey and Don did, and Karai had to admit it made her feel more at ease.

It was April, in the end. Karai figured it was poetic. The surrogate daughter of her estranged father. They’d been rivals since the moment they met, being on the same side now was irrelevant.

So Karai wasn’t overly surprised when, during Sunday morning breakfast, April suddenly snapped at her. “Oh, would you shut up already?”

The whole kitchen fell quiet, everyone looking at April as she slowly blushed, turning away. “Sorry… I just… I’m sorry.”

Karai shook her head, setting down the dishes she’d been gathering up. “No. Let’s just get this over with.”

April whipped her head back to look at her, and for a moment Karai thought she’d back out, take the high road, let this tension build some more. But April had never been good at backing down from a fight, had she?

“Dojo, five minutes,” she told Karai, before leaving the room, probably to change out of her pajamas. Karai figured her short tights, sports bra and loose tank-top was as good as anything else she had, so she just headed for the stairs.

Now, finally, the boys seemed to realize they were serious, getting up to follow.

“Oh, come on, let’s not be hasty…” Don tried, veering off towards their bedroom.

“Karai, this is probably a bad idea,” Leo tried, walking right on her heels down the stairs.

“Are the aunties gonna fight?” Natsuki asked, the other kids looking rather excited at the prospect.

Karai ignored all of them, walking barefoot across the yard, into the warehouse, and up the steps. This could have been a quiet thing, but since half the family was trailing after her, telling her to maybe reconsider, the runaway teens on the first floor became interested. There was quite the crowd amassed when April arrived, having changed into her gym clothes.

“You don’t need to do this,” Donatello tried, one last time, before both of them answered in unison.

“Yes, we do.”

Apparently that was enough to make him finally step back against the wall with the others.

Zoe stepped out between them, ushering them to the middle of the floor. “Ok, girls. No scratching, no biting, no hair pulling, no eye poking and no permanent damage. I will stop you if I feel I have to. Bow.”

They both glanced at her, but neither were in the mood to disobey. Zoe might not be a ninja, but she was stronger than both of them. And besides, this part was about honor. So they bowed, respectfully, before stepping back. Zoe raised her hand, and brought it down to signal the start.

Karai might have waited, tested the waters with a few jabs to start with, if this had been any other fight. But not against April, she didn’t need to test her. They rammed into each other more like sumo wrestlers than kunoichi, trying to force the other to the ground. When that didn’t work, Karai brought her knee to April’s gut just as April brought her elbow to Karai’s face. It did not get more graceful from there.

Apparently, it was only about fifteen minutes, but it felt more like hours. There was no decorum, no tasteful art, no show of skill. It was a melee of fists and kicks. No one cheered, there were no insults, no gloating. There was nothing about honor or duty or heritage. Just over a decade of anger and jealousy and resentment squeezed into two women, rolling on the floor.

When they finally stopped, there was no coup de grâce, no dramatic final blow, no graceful acceptance. It was just Karai holding her bleeding nose, lying on her side, and April pressing her knuckles to her bleeding lip, on her knees with her forehead pressed to the floor. Neither wanted to get up again, as it turned out, and after a few moments, Zoe stepped out between them. “Are you two quite done?” she asked, very gently.

“Fuck off, Espinoza…” April groaned.

“Right… And you?” she asked Karai, not in the least fazed.

“Go to Hell…”

“Alright then, clean up when you’re leaving. I’ll tell Jordan to keep a room ready at the clinic.”

With that, she walked out, and one by one, so did the others. Karai waved away Leo’s helping hands, just as April batted away both her husbands. In the end, there were just the two of them, leaning against the wall next to each other. When the silence was finally broken, April’s voice was softer than Karai had ever heard it.

“You know, most families go to church, or have picnics, or stuff like that on Sundays…”

“Not this one,” Karai snorted, spitting some bloody mucus on the floor.

“Not this one,” April agreed. She was quiet for a long moment, before admitting, voice small, “I was always jealous of you.”

“I was always jealous of you,” Karai echoed, because what was the point in denying it now?

“You were so much better than me, so much smarter and stronger…” April sighed.

“You took my place in the family that was suppose to be mine,” Karai mumbled.

“And when you broke away from the Shredder, I was so scared that you’d push me aside. Why would they need me if they had you?”

“How could I ever measure up to you? All I could do was hurt people. You could heal them, protect them… They didn’t shy from your touches, or made sure never to turn their backs on you…”

“I wasn’t even a real Hamato, I was just some girl…”

“I didn’t even know how to be human, I was just some weapon…”

They looked at each other then, and Karai had guessed most of those things about April, but hearing her say them made something sharp and painful inside her fade. And suddenly the woman next to her wasn’t a rival, or an obstacle, or an enemy. It was strangely similar to looking in the mirror. She wasn’t very good at this human interaction thing, but leaning over and wrapping her arms around April was something that felt more like instinct. April hugging her back made it feel better.

They sat like that until Karai’s legs cramped, both of them leaning back, wiping blood and tears and sweat away. And suddenly, it was alright. All of it was ok.

 


	13. I’ve been everywhere with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are found and lost.

Anita Juliana Espinoza came home very late. She had been a judge for just under a year at this point, and she was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. She hadn’t spoken to her sister since the day she was shot, and part of Anita missed her. But Zoe had chosen her life, and Anita could not understand why she would choose to live in sin with something that wasn’t even human. Zoe could come back whenever she chose to. Anita would not force her, just pray for her.

She put away her things, put her phone to charge, turned on the radio in the kitchen, and walked out into her sitting room. When she flicked on the lights, a warning bell went off in her mind. Something was off. Something had changed. There, placed leaning against the decorative bowl on her coffee table, was a CD case. It was unlabeled, and Anita didn’t really want to know who might have placed it there. Or how they’d gotten inside.

She went back to the kitchen, turned down the radio, grabbed her phone, and then she walked back to place the CD in her DVD player. It popped up titled with just the year. Anita glanced around, dialing 911, but she didn’t hit call just yet. Instead, she pressed play. 

 

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The last of the tension left the house the Sunday April and Karai fought. 

No one tiptoed around Karai anymore, no conversations trailed off when she entered the room, no one hesitated to touch her. She was hugged, kissed, pinched, tickled and patted more in a week than she had been in her whole life. She was ‘sis’ and ‘auntie’ and ‘daughter.’ She joined for practice, she teased her brothers, she made breakfast, lunch and dinner. She was signed up to be allowed to take the kids from daycare and school. Leo packed away clothes he didn’t use, and Mikey took her shopping, so she could fill the empty space with her own things. The toothbrush she’d been using was worn out; she got a new one, and put it in the blue cup in the bathroom. She found a poster of a band she liked, and Leo pinned it to the wardrobe door. She beat Jordan’s high score on most of the video games, much to his dismay. She helped the kits cut their claws, and to paint them in bright colors. She fell asleep with Josh on her chest, and the picture Casey snapped of it went on the wall. She helped Zoe braid her hair in the mornings. She went with the family when Raph and Jordan got their four year chips from AA. She meant it from the bottom of her heart when she hugged her brother, telling him how proud she was. She helped paint the hallway, sitting on Donnie’s shoulders to reach all the way up to the ceiling so they wouldn’t have to dig the ladder out from storage. She fell asleep on Leo’s arm at night. 

And at five forty three in the morning, two weeks before Christmas, she exited the bathroom to find April, Zoe and Jordan there, waiting patiently for her.

“Um, good morning?” she mumbled, wiping water from her chin.

“Yeah, you’re right, I see it now,” Jordan hummed, the girls nodding. Karai narrowed her eyes, looking between her in-laws. 

“See what?”

“You’ve been sick to and fro for almost three weeks now,” Zoe informed Karai, like Karai hadn’t noticed she had to throw up roughly twenty minutes after every larger meal. 

“And you’ve been re-lacing your boots, complaining they don’t fit,” April pointed out.

“Your chest is bigger,” Jordan supplied, earning himself a glare. “It’s a medical opinion. Tell me I’m wrong,” he dared her, but Karai couldn’t. None of her bras fit her right. She’d taken to wearing mostly sports ones. 

“Do you all have a point?” she asked, sleepy and grumpy and cold. Her answer was three long, thin cardboard boxes held out to her by Jordan.

“One every time you pee. Not all at the same time.”

She looked at the discreet packages, the delicate little flower decorating them. And she wasn’t that surprised; part of her had known, she wasn’t stupid. Just scared. 

“I’m not pregnant. I can’t be. That’s not how it works.”

The other three glanced at each other, and she found it tempting to throw the boxes at them. “I’m not. Leonardo is a completely different species, it doesn’t work biologically.”

Jordan shrugged. “You’re both mutants… Who knows how it works? But you show the symptoms, so as a doctor, I advise testing. If all six are negative, then fine, it’s something else. But if some of them are positive…”

“I’m not having this conversation,” she told them firmly, shoving the boxes at April, and walking past them.

“I’ll put them by the tampons. You know, the ones you haven’t used for two months,” April told her, because of course they knew. Living with other people sucked. 

She crawled back into bed with Leo, who turned over and wrapped an arm around her. She lay there for a long time, focused on breathing calmly, of keeping her mind still, like a smooth pond, hands clutched over her stomach.

 

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The church was mostly dark, only the altar illuminated by candles. The people gathered subdued, but all smiling. There was no music, no one leading the bride to the altar. Just Zoe in a white dress with red poppies on it, Raph in a baggy suit. Father Pérez mumbled Latin over their heads, Zoe nudging Raph whenever he was supposed to answer or do something. It was the bare bones of a ceremony, but it was beautiful. The hush and echo in the dark church made it seem almost supernatural. Their vows were standard, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. And when they were told to kiss, Raph wound his hands around Zoe’s waist and pulled her close. The kiss was chaste, suitable, and once it was done, they hugged each other tight, crying. The frame shook and the camera was turned off.

It came back a second later, still in the church, this time over by the baptismal font. Don held little Adelita as father Pérez dropped water on her forehead, making her giggle. Her hair was stroked and Father Pérez nodded in approval. “I expect to see her Sunday,” he told the newly wed parents. Raph glanced at the dark, empty pews.

“Not sure your congregation will approve.”

Father Pérez huffed, shaking his head. “You’re as much a son of God as anyone else I ever met. One just needs to see you look at your bride and your daughter to see how much you love them. Is that not the mark of a soul?”

The camera turned to more thoroughly catch the way Raph beamed at the little child Zoe took over holding, and really, there was no doubt. He was practically shaking with it, he looked close to crying. “Just never thought I’d get to be married, ‘s all…” he mumbled, putting an arm around Zoe’s shoulders. 

“But now you are. To a good woman. So, you come back Sunday, and we’ll see about making sure your daughter grows up as good and strong as her mother,” Father Pérez insisted. “They can say what they want… I say if you have love in your heart then a child of God you are. You didn’t burst into flames as you crossed the threshold. There’s more between heaven and earth, after all…”

“In,” Raph mumbled, seemingly regretting it when everyone looked at him. “No, just… Um… It’s in. There’s more in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophies.” When the camera holder snorted, Raph glared at it. “Yeah, I read Shakespeare, live with it… Maybe you should try, Mikey.” He turned to Zoe, face softening. “Needed to find some sweet words for my wife.”

She beamed at him, even as she teased. “Hamlet though? Really?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to quote Romeo and Juliet, was I?” he huffed. “Come on, someone promised me cake, and we should get Lita to bed before she starts crying.”

Then the screen returned to the icon of the CD, and it whirled to a stop in the player. Anita sat there a long moment, looking at it. She’d spoken to Pérez, the day after she had found the creature in Zoe’s apartment. She’d gone back to the church of their childhood, but had been unable to tell him anything. Zoe had asked her not to, after all. He had patted her shoulder, given her tea, and told her God would see her through. 

Did he really see a soul in that thing? Anita had to admit, that once over the shock of his appearance, she could see features in the creature’s face. And she had to admit, when listening to people advocating against mutant rights, she was reminded of people who would have preferred her mother and her people to be slaves still. People who spat at her on the subway, telling her to go home even though her family had been here for over four hundred years. She did not want to be part of such blind hatred.

He loved her, she realized. He, not it. He loved her enough to take her bastard child as his own, to marry her despite her history. To accept her, something that Anita, her blood, had not.

She closed her phone, wiped her face, and went to heat some dinner. And that Sunday, she went to church. Not the one down the block from her home, but the one she’d grown up at. She walked inside, and finding them was easy. Half the congregation was avoiding them, the other half had flocked to them, seemingly under the pretense of seeing the baby.

They parted for her, but a raging sea could not have been so terrifying to Moses as this was to Anita. And then, she stood in front of her sister, her niece, and her brother-in-law.

Raph steeled himself, an arm wrapping around his wife, as if he was going to pull her behind him, shield her. As if Zoe needed protection from Anita. She might have been offended, if not for that the only time they’d met, Anita had pulled a gun on him, and shouted some very hard words at her sister. Now, she made an effort to be soft.

“I’m sorry, hermanita…”

Zoe might be stubborn, might be rash, but she didn’t hold grudges. So it was really all it took for her to hand her daughter to her husband, and wrap her arms around Anita, hugging her tight. “It’s forgiven, hermana. It’s in the past.”

Raph obviously did not agree, rolling his eyes, but he said nothing. 

“Come.” Zoe pulled Anita into the pew. “Sit with us. We’re gonna have to guide Raph through, he’s never been before.”

And so Anita spent her Sunday looking at the mutant next to her, the way he held his daughter, gently, in steady hands. The way his eyes glazed over when Father Pérez slipped from English to Latin in the middle of the sermon, and the way he jerked when Zoe elbowed him to get him to pay attention. The way his glare turned soft when he turned to her. The way his shoulders tensed when someone whispered behind them. The way his jaw clenched. And on an impulse, as if God took her wrist to guide her, she raised her hand, and put it on his arm. He looked shocked, blinking at her. And then he relaxed under the touch, breathing out. If he could be so much, a husband, a father, if he could feel such things as love, boredom, anger, relief, then surely, Anita had been wrong. He was, as Zoe had said, another child of God. She left her hand on his arm, and felt at ease for the first time in six months.

 

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Karai was in the unusual position of being home alone when it happened. The light queasiness she’d felt since breakfast suddenly morphed into a sharp pain, and the smell of blood hit her hard. She made it down the stairs to the clinic, scaring a nurse half to death by fainting in the waiting room. 

When she woke up she was in one of the small, mint green rooms in the clinic. Last time she’d been here, April had been with her, and Jordan had set her fractured nose and knuckles. This was so much worse, even if she wasn’t in pain any longer.

Jordan sat beside her, and on a small metal table beside the bed was a kidney bowl covered with a white cloth. When she saw it, her throat closed, and her vision blurred as she started to cry. Jordan took her hand, holding it until she could breathe calmly again.

“I told them you fainted, but I didn’t say why,” he told her, voice soft and calm. “If you want to, I won’t tell them anything at all. You don’t have to deal with any of this now. You can sleep down here tonight, and decide what you want to do.”

She nodded, and Jordan squeezed her hand and stood, taking the bowl carefully. 

“What was…?” She didn’t get further. She shouldn’t be so upset, she hadn’t even wanted this. But being unsure about being a mom, and having her child ripped from her so early were very different experiences. Jordan looked down at the bowl, sighing. 

“A lump of tissue. That’s what this is.” He looked back at her, looking very old. “In another six months, it would have been a boy. But this was not a child, Karai. Not yet. It was the potential for one, and it’s a sad thing it’s been lost. Don’t cry for this. Cry for yourself.”

She rubbed at her face, feeling hollow, like she’d been scooped out and left empty.

“I failed. I ignored it, and now this happened…”

Jordan put the bowl down again, taking her hand. “No, you did nothing wrong. You ate right, you didn’t bum smokes from Zoe, you didn’t get into any fights. This happens, Karai. Often. This is the first time you’ve been pregnant, right?” She nodded, still feeling terrible. “It’s common. Ridiculously common. Few women carry their first child to term. The first twelve weeks are the most risky. Not to mention both you and Leo are mutants. There are so many factors I would have been more surprised if this hadn’t happened.” 

He reached out, brushing her cheeks with warm, dry hands. “There is nothing wrong with you, you didn’t do this. It’s natural. Get some rest.”

Karai nodded again, and somehow, she felt a fraction less terrible now. She looked at the bowl, biting her lip. 

“Can you figure out what went wrong?”

Jordan shook his head. “No. I don’t have the expertise or the equipment. But… I can send it to Reshma. I can not tell her what it is or who it came from, but she’ll probably figure it out. I can ask her not to tell anyone. She has a way better chance of being able to understand what exactly happened, but it’s usually very hard.”

Karai bit her lip. “When she’s done, I want to bury him… He might not have been a child yet, but he would have been. He deserves that much.” 

Jordan nodded, stroking back her hair. “I’ll get you some tea, and you can sleep. Do you want to see Leo? He’s worried about you.”

“No. I don’t want anything… Just…” She looked down at her hands. “Tell him I’m asleep. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“You should tell him,” Jordan told her, very kindly. As she shook her head, he sighed. “I know you feel ashamed, and I know you don’t want him to have to feel the same loss you do, but he’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll know you’re hurting, and if you can’t talk to him, it’ll turn out bad for both of you. You don’t have to do it now, but you should, soon.”

She closed her eyes, knowing he was right. But hurting Leo would be hard, even if hiding from him would be harder. “Tomorrow,” she mumbled.

“Tomorrow. Now rest,” Jordan told her, and left. 

When she opened her eyes again, the lights were turned off, and the table was empty. She lay a hand over her stomach, her fingers cold. She almost wished she was still in pain, but she just felt empty. 

 

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Raph was surprised at the amount of homework training to be a cop included. So many textbooks and manuals to memorize. Zoe helped him, but only so much. He did need to actually learn all this stuff, not just pass tests. And he had to do it sober. He’d realized that. He hadn’t noticed how much he drank until he stopped. His previous excuse, that he as a reject of society needed some perks, was gone. And he had a baby. And a wife. The thought made him grin every time. But he had to shape up, for them. He had to do this, and do it right. 

It was Jordan who took him to AA. Raph had protested that he wasn’t some stupor drunk who ruined his life, and Jordan had shot him down with one word. 

“Yet.”

Raph had seen plenty drunk cops. He’d seen Casey’s dad. He knew. He knew he was heading down the same path, and that if he didn’t pull the brakes now, it was just going to get harder. So, he and Jordan decided to go together. It was easier, having someone there with him. He might not have fucked up yet, but he would if he continued. He was still an addict, and he needed help. Sure, sitting in that room, being judged, it was hard. But there were also people coming up to him telling him they understood. That they were proud of him for doing something with his life. That they got how his life had led to this. It helped. 

So, here he was, spread out over the kitchen table with his books, really wishing there was even a single drop of alcohol in the house (there wasn’t; Casey had poured it all out the moment Raph and Jordan joined AA, and there would be no alcohol here either until both had a one year chip), when Mikey shuffled into the room in the way he usually did when he’d broken something.

“What did you do?” Raph asked, trying not to sound grateful as he pushed the books aside in favor of looking at his brother.

“Nothing! I mean… I did something, but not something bad. Or… I don’t know,” Mikey rambled off, thumbing at the three spiral notebooks in his hands, twisting them back and forth. “I made something… I want you to look at it. If you’re not busy.”

Raph glanced at his text books. “No, I’m not,” he lied. Mikey sat down at the table, holding the notebooks tightly in his hands, almost protectively. 

“I’m… I wasn’t going to show anyone, but Jordan found them. He said I should let someone read them… And I want it to be you.”

“Why me?” Raph asked, leaning his cheek in his hand. He wasn’t usually anyone’s first choice for opinions, at least not when it came to things like this.

“ ’Cause you’ll be honest,” Mikey told him, finally laying the notebooks down on the table, unclamping his fingers from them. The top one was old, water damaged, taped, stained and stuffed full of extra papers that jutted out everywhere. The other two seemed to be heading down the same path. “The others will be kind, they won’t want to hurt me. You’ll say what’s good and what’s bad the way you see it.”

Raph took the top notebook, gently. Mikey must have had it for ages, Raph could vaguely remember it sitting on Mikey’s nightstand in the lair. He’d worked very hard on this. 

“I’ll read it. What’s it about?”

Mikey grinned. “Dragons. And brothers. And love. And fighting for justice. And dragons.”

Raph laughed, because what else would Mikey write? He packed up his studies and took to the living room to read Mikey’s little story. Mikey was kind, and funny; his stories would be the same.

It took six hours for Raph to change his mind. In those hours he’d laughed, he’d worried, he’d even cried. Sure there were dragons, but they were well thought out, interesting and believable. Same with the characters. They felt like people, not stereotypes. They were flawed and broken and wonderful and Raph wasn’t sure he’d ever been this invested in anything before in his life. He had no idea how Mikey, bumbling, zero attention span Mikey, had managed to sit down and completely nail so many situations and emotions. 

He closed the last notebook, rubbing his eyes, feeling all empty and elated at the same time. He sat for a moment, looking around the dim room, looking at the lights in the windows on the other side of the street, trying to remember that this was reality. It took a while… he’d been so engrossed in the story, now that it was over he felt kinda lost. 

Finally, a yawning Jordan poked his head in through the kitchen door, blinking at him. “Did you not go to bed? That’s not very good…”

“I was reading Mikey’s story…” Raph mumbled, looking down at the tattered notebook in his hand. “I had no idea he was writing. I mean, I saw him do it, but I never thought it was a story or anything… Especially not this.”

“Was it good?” Jordan asked, rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah… It was… I think he wants some constructive criticism, but… I got nothing. This is amazing. I want fifteen books, a feature length movie and a twelve season show. It’s… I need to know what happens next. I’m… I can’t think. I was not prepared for any of this.”

“Wow.” Jordan smiled. “Okay, now I really want to read it.”

“You haven’t?” Raph asked, getting up, stretching out. He’d been sitting there for way too long.

“No, he wanted you to read it first,” Jordan told him. “Come on, help me make breakfast. If you go to bed now you’ll just turn the day around.”

Raph obeyed, putting the notebooks on the kitchen table, helping Jordan get breakfast started. It took him the better part of the next hour to actually feel like there weren’t dragons circling in the sky above, and somehow, he felt the world was poorer for it.


	14. Moats and Boats and Waterfalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all tears are of evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions parental abuse in some detail, be warned.

The silence in the room was deafening. Karai was pretty sure this was the only time she would ever see the turtles and their respective others so quiet, all at the same time. 

She sat on the couch, between Leo, who held her hand in his big one, and Donnie, who put his hand on her knee, very gently. No one seemed to know what to say until April reached over from Donnie’s other side, stroking her hair. 

“It’s okay. You’re not in pain, right?”

Karai shook her head, something thick in her throat. “No. No, I feel fine. Just stupid and useless…”

“Karai, it’s perfectly normal. I’m pretty sure I lost one in the first ten weeks too…” Karai kept shaking her head so April trailed off. 

“I know, I know… I just… It’s how I feel. I know it’s unreasonable, I understand that. But it’s still how I feel, and I can’t do anything about it.”

Leo let go of her hands, and for a horrible moment Karai was scared to turn to look at him. But then he wrapped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close, leaning his mouth against her temple. The gaping hole in her abdomen seemed to close a fraction at that. Leonardo didn’t hate her. 

“You are your mother’s daughter…”

She looked at Splinter, feeling Leo turn his head to do the same.  Their aging father got up from his seat, shuffling forward to sit on the coffee table in front of her, taking her hands in his. 

“Your mother, she lost two babies before you. I never told you that, did I?” She shook her head. “No, I suppose it never came up… First one was like yours, just a few weeks. Her periods were very regular, same time, every month. Then, two months, nothing. Suddenly, a week early, she wakes up in the middle of the night, blood all over the sheets. I took her to the doctor, and he says probably a baby.” He patted her hands, eyes distant. “Second one was harder. Six months… Go to doctor for checkup. No heartbeat. They took it out, and Teng Shen cried for two days, scared she would never have babies… Then, ten months later, she’s pregnant again. And you come, and you’re strong and healthy.”

He smiled, taking her face in his hands. “I wish she could see you. Our strong, brave daughter. She would be so proud. She’d tell you it will be just fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Karai couldn’t help it. She cried. She hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t wanted them to worry about her. But she couldn’t help it, and Splinter just wiped her cheeks with her thumbs until she leaned forward, throwing her arms around his shoulders, hiding her face against his chest. 

She could feel hands on her back and on her hair, patting her gently. She couldn’t tell who was who, but it didn’t feel overly important. The important thing was that when she sat up again, Leo hugged her tight, kissing her cheek. And then the others joined in, holding her, and she felt like she’d been glued back into one piece, and they’d hold her until she dried.

She sat in the window before bed, spinning a cigarette between her fingers, not having the heart to light it. Leo sat by the small desk under the window, cross-legged on the floor, slowly writing out diplomas for a class of his students. Another person would have printed them and signed them. Not Leo; he wrote them all by hand in his smooth calligraphy. Finally, Karai tucked the cigarette away on the desk, putting a foot on either side of the diploma. He smiled, finishing the final strokes, putting it behind him on the floor to dry. He put away the brush and the ink, before picking up one of her feet, pressing a soft kiss to the top. She snorted softly at him, calm settling in when he smiled up at her. That same stupid, lovestruck smile. It made her feel less broken.

“Do you want to try…?” he asked, catching her off guard. 

“Try?”

He looked down, rubbing his fingers against the arch of her foot. “Yeah… I mean, this time it just… kinda happened. Do you want to, like, actually try?” he asked, slowly, carefully. 

“It might not work,” she pointed out. Reshma had been unable to find anything conclusive. ‘Too small, too many things undeveloped,’ had been her verdict, together with a reminder that she was first and foremost a biochemist, secondly a trauma surgeon, not actually an expert on prenatal fetuses. 

“I know. And I don’t want to put you through anything… I mean, we could make sure. There’s the pill, condoms, medical operations…”

“I’m not asking you to get castrated,” she huffed, bumping him with her foot. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he pointed out, but she shook her head. 

“I wasn’t prepared. I think that’s what hit me so hard. I hadn’t come to terms with it, not even enough to tell you. And then it was gone.” She looked out the window, snow falling, the strings of lights in the tree outside blinking softly. “I’m prepared now. I’m ready. I know what might happen.” She looked back at Leo. “Let’s just… continue. Like this.”

“So, I should cancel the vasectomy?”  Leo asked, getting another gentle shove in the chest. “Come on, close the window, I can’t feel my fingers. Come lend me some body heat.”

She slipped into the room, spilling into his lap. Sitting there, Leo’s arms around her, knowing he loved her, knowing she wasn’t broken or damaged, she started to feel like maybe, maybe she’d be okay, eventually. 

 

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Bukowski was still pretty much half asleep when he called his partner. He’d been sitting in the car below for almost ten minutes, and it was cold, even with the heat on. It had yet to actually bring the squad car to an actual livable temperature. 

On the fifth ring, Raph answered, obviously just as sleepy as he was. “Andrew? The hell, man… What’s wrong?”

“I was gonna ask the same thing. Wake your wife, we need to go like right now if we’re gonna make it.”

There was a long pause before Raph asked, probably as gently as he could, “Do you want to check the time a little bit more carefully?”

“Yeah, it’s… not six is it?” Bukowski realized, focusing on the clock on the radio.

“Nope.” Raph snorted. “Come on up. Zoe’s in the shower, pretty sure she turned on the coffee maker. Come have some breakfast,” he told him, before hanging up the phone. 

Bukowski sighed, but he guessed it could have been worse, he could have been an hour late. He spent a few moments lamenting that he could have still been in bed, before getting out of the car and walking in the front door. He was surprised no one was there. Usually there was at least one homeless person, or a stray mutant hiding in the waiting room, if for no other reason than because it was warm. Both he and Zoe ignored Jordan still practicing without a license. Where else would these people go after all?

He stomped most the snow off his boots, stopping when he heard a sound. There, behind the bench, tucked in next to the radiator, was a box. Bukowski frowned, walking closer as he pulled off his gloves.

First he thought they were just puppies, small and nestled into the blanket wrapped around them. Then he saw the small hand clutching the teddy bear, and realized they weren’t animals. 

“Who would do something so awful?” Zoe growled, quietly. There had just been a note saying ‘Sorry, I can’t anymore’, and nothing else in the box. Everyone had agreed it was better to just let the kits sleep for now, so they’d been tucked away in the living room, where it was nice and warm, and now half the family was gathered in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, speaking in hushed tones.

“We both know plenty of kids get abandoned every day. Mutant kids even more so,” Bukowski reminded her gently, warming his hands on the cup of coffee. 

“What do we do? Send them into the system? It feels cruel…” Donnie mumbled, rubbing his chin. 

“We can’t keep them. How would we keep them? And we don’t need the questions on why they were abandoned here to pop up, not with Jordan’s case just being reopened,” April mumbled, even though she clearly didn’t want to leave them in the hands of the government. 

“We can’t just leave them,” Mikey pointed out. “The foster system is terrible. I can’t imagine it’s better for mutants. We just have to make it work. Maybe their parents will come back for them? Realize they can’t do this?”

Jordan put his hand on Mikey’s shoulder, kissing his temple. “Mikey… People who leave their kids behind usually feel like it’s their last resort. No, they’re not coming back. But we’re not leaving them either.” He stood taller, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll try. We have room, we’ll make ends meet one way or the other. We’re doing good as it is. Donnie is about to be published, he’ll probably get offers and grants. April’s on the short track to getting in front of the camera at the news station. Casey said he’s doing great at the garage, maybe he can get a raise… And I might win this case. I might be able to start practicing again, for real. Maybe even with some payout from the hospital for what they did. As it is, we can do this. Let’s be honest, no one here wants to leave these kids to their fate. We won’t. We’re not the kind of people who would.”

They all glanced around, knowing he was right. 

“That’s gonna bite us, eventually,” April sighed, before nodding. “You’re right. We can’t. None of us can. We’ll talk about it when the others wake up, but you’re completely right. They’ll agree.”

They all hushed down when there was a small sound from the living room. One of the kits sat up, rubbing their eyes. Mikey slipped inside, walking over. 

“Hey…” He smiled, gently. The second kit sat up too, blinking. “Hi there. I’m Mikey.” He sat down, giving them a bit of space. “Don’t be scared. Everything’s okay. Are you hungry?”

The kits nodded, looking around curiously. 

“Okay, do you like waffles? Do you want to go make some waffles? Come on, let’s go in the kitchen; you can have hot cocoa while I make some,” he offered, helping them out of the box, wrapping each of them in one of the blankets stuffed in there, before leading them into the kitchen. Both kits were small, Bukowski guessed no more than three, probably closer to two. They clung to Mikey as he set about making breakfast, talking in a low, gentle voice. 

“Well, you guys have this well in hand, I guess… Now we do actually need to get to work. Call if you need help, I guess. I’m gonna call Social Service, let them know. Someone will be over soon after that, I guess,” he told them, Jordan nodding. 

“We’ll take care of it. You and Zoe get to work. April, you need to go too. We’ve got this, we’ll figure it out,” he promised. He looked at Mikey, and he knew they’d keep the kits. Mikey would only let them go to a life he knew for certain would be better than what they could offer, and Jordan knew enough of the world to see that that life was unlikely to present itself. 

“Great… Guess we’ll be parents,” he mumbled to himself, before heading over to help.

 

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Leo with a cold was the most adorable thing Karai had ever seen. It was, it really was. He tried so hard to pretend he was fine, even though he was weak as a kitten, bleary eyed and flush-cheeked. Jordan took one look at him when he stumbled in to eat breakfast and just pointed.

“No. Back to bed.”

Leo protested, weakly, Donnie herding him back to bed very gently. Karai came in with a tray for him, finding him half asleep.

“M’ not sick…”

“You’re burning up, silly. Just stay in bed,” she countered, handing him a bowl of miso, sitting down to make sure he ate some. “Rest, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“I have classes…”

“I’ll take care of them, relax,” she ordered, poking the bowl to his mouth. Leo huffed, but drank it down, swallowing the tea as well, and half a glass of water before Karai tucked him in, kissing his forehead and leaving. And that’s how she came to be sitting in front of a bunch of college students in the dojo, unsure what to do.

“Well. Um. I’m Karai, Leonardo is sick, so I’m here instead of him. Now, to be fair, I don’t really know which of his classes this is, so… Fill me in?”

“We’re the advanced self defense class, Sensei,” one of them answered, giving a seated bow. “Very pleased to have you.”

“Thank you, very pleased to be here,” Karai answered in turn. She might not enjoy the overly formal traditions, but she’d keep to them. “How about you all pair off, and show me what Leonardo has you working on right now, and I’ll help you from there?”

“Hai!” was the resounding answer, and they all rose, stepping into pairs, and started working at quarter speed. It was easy enough, walk around, remind them to keep their feet right, urge some on who were afraid to use force. She noted that the majority of the class were girls, so while showing the grip they were learning more in depth to one of them, she asked. 

“Oh, the Hamato dojo and NYU have a collaboration. We get discounts, and Leo Sensei makes sure we’re safe on campus. Harassment has dropped steadily in the past two years since it started. Word is spreading, and attacks on female students have dropped significantly. I know Leo is talking to other schools, and that he has agreements with lower grades too, like high schools and middle schools.” She beamed, pushing away Karai’s hands, only to grab her by the wrists and force her to step back, just as she’d been showed. “I feel much better. I was assaulted in high school. My parents were super worried about sending me to New York. But last month a guy didn’t take no for an answer, and I threw him into a table. They’ve been calmer since then. And really, so have I.”

“I was there.” Her sparring partner grinned, puffed up with pride. “It was amazing. Leo Sensei almost cried when we told him. He’s so sweet. He always has something to offer when we come with a problem. How to get out of a choke hold, how to get away from someone grabbing you from behind, how to get out of a zip-tie. I’m not scared anymore. I never thought I’d feel safe walking down the street, but I do.”

“He must be proud, you’re good students.” Karai smiled at them, letting them get back to it. She knew the brothers had stopped playing vigilante. Mostly. If criminals made a fuss, she knew they picked up patrolling again, but they did keep it mostly to the daylight hours now. So this had to be Leonardo’s way of making up for it. Making sure streets were safe by filling them with women who were not afraid to say no. 

The next class was younger, sophomore highschoolers, this time exclusively girls. 

“We get extra credit in gym for being here. It’s fun too. The boys come on Wednesdays,” one of the girls told Karai while warming up. “Sensei says we should start a club at school, try out for championships. But he doesn’t want to do it himself, says it feels unfair. And it would take time from teaching people the self defense classes, and he refuses to do that.”

“Makes sense. He was always a bit of a martyr,” Karai mumbled, the girls giggling knowingly. 

“He’s much happier since you came home. Much calmer,” another girl told her. When Karai blinked at them, they giggled some more. “We saw you guys out in the courtyard before Christmas Break. You were very cute.” And then another fit of giggles when Karai’s cheeks went red.

“Alright, enough of that. Get organized. You don’t want me telling him you were slacking off, do you?” she asked them, order resuming. 

After lunch, there was a senior citizen class. It was much more meditation focused, a lot of breathing and slow movements. 

“His father joins sometimes, it’s very nice,” one of the old men told Karai afterwards. “Keeps us limber, you know. And my memory is getting better, now that I have something to do. And my hip isn’t acting up anymore. That’s what kills us, you know, sitting in a chair all day, watching TV, letting ourselves rust. But the old that is strong does not wither.”

“Deep roots are not reached by the frost,” Karai continued, almost on reflex. The old man laughed. 

“Good, good. Glad to see people still read.”

“It’s a classic,” Karai mumbled, waving him off. 

The next class was one of a group of eleven-year olds. Karai had to brace herself going in. But they turned out to be very well behaved, and even stricter with the rules than any of the other classes, bowing and reciting lines like their lives depended on it.

“You have to listen to people who know what you want to learn. How else are we going to learn anything?” one of the little boys told her when she commented on it. Karai wasn’t sure she was mature enough to answer that. 

All the kids were very serious, and obviously excited to get better. When someone got something right, there was much cheering, and the student in question could feel proud for a moment before class resumed. Karai was almost worried about them until she had bowed and released them, and they immediately turned into a hoop of laughing, screaming children, shoving and jumping on their way out.  

The last class of the day were a group of the homeless kids from downstairs.

“Pro bono, to keep us safe. And, you know, occupied. So we don’t get into trouble, but if trouble finds us, we can get out of it,” one of them told her, handing over a stack of papers.

“And this is…?”

“Our drug tests, straight from Jaakola’s printer. Gotta hand them in to join.” They shrugged, taking their place on the tatami.

“Alright then. I’m gonna work under the assumption they’re all negative,” Karai said, putting them away by the front.

This class was slightly different. All of them were disciplined, and all of them had definitely been there before. But they all worked very slowly, at half or quarter speed. 

“We’ve all been attacked and abused. Most of us have some kind of PTSD,” one of the boys explained. “So we just do this, forever. Leo Sensei says it’s okay, that if we do it enough, our bodies will remember. So if something happens, even if our brains freeze, our bodies will react. It’s nice to know.”

“Do you try at full speed?” Karai asked, the ones around her nodding. 

“When we start, and when we’ve done a move about a thousand times. It’s always scary in the beginning. But it’s nice to know if I ever see my father again, he won’t be able to just kick me around.”

Somehow, it struck a chord, and Karai had to look down. “It’s not always that easy…” she mumbled, a quiet falling over them, until the boy asked, very gently, “Yours too?”

She’d never thought of her father as abusive. Strict, insane, cold, but never abusive. Her bruises had been lessons. Not…

“You ever talk to anyone about it?” one of the girls asked, and Karai found herself shaking her head. 

“No, he wasn’t… He’d hit me, but it was training. It was different.”

She saw them exchange looks, and the first boy put his hand on her shoulder. “Training. Punishment. Lessons. Reminders… They call it whatever suits their needs. But it’s all the same thing. It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it. It’s not your fault.”

She shook her head. It wasn’t the same. Not at all. But then the others started.

“It would come out of nowhere. My mom would be fine one second and then explode the next.”

“Like walking on eggshells.”

“Like walking on glass, unable to scream…”

“If I didn’t do something wrong, they’d hit me to remind me not to. It didn’t matter what I did, I was always beaten anyway.”

“I don’t even know how many nights I went hungry. I eat better on the streets…”

“She burned my binder and shoved my face in the flames.”

“He’d belt me if I so much as sneezed.”

“He found out I had a boyfriend and locked me in an old freezer for thirty hours.”

“She made me hit my sisters, so we wouldn’t trust each other.”

“I was so alone.”

“I couldn’t even fight back.”

“I didn’t even know it wasn’t normal.”

She cried. She didn’t want to know this about herself, she didn’t want to have to face it. She’d pushed it away so long. And now she’d seem weak in front of these kids, who she was supposed to teach how to be strong. But no one laughed, they all just trailed off, and there were gentle hands on her shoulders and on her hair until she wiped her face and took a shaky breath. The second time she’d cried in front of people; she was hoping this wasn’t going to become a thing. 

“You should talk to someone,” the boy told her. 

“Not sure there’s anyone I can tell that much about myself,” she admitted. She passed as human, not all of these teenagers did. She’d have to tell about her mutant form. And she’d lived in the shadows for so long. To get it all out she’d have to talk so much about the turtles, about all of them. She couldn’t entrust that to a stranger.

“Well, I mean, most of us talk to Casey.”

“Casey?” she asked, the group all nodding.

“Yeah. He minored in psychology. Learned everything he could about dealing with trauma in adolescence. You didn’t know that? Him and Jordan are the reason any of us are getting any help at all.”

She’d had no idea. He was still so much like the teenager she’d first met. She looked at him that evening, sitting in the nursery, bottle feeding his son while humming a rock ballad at him. Finally he looked up. Still that long hair, still the tattered jeans, the faded metal band t-shirt and the braces had only saved his teeth so much.

“What’cha need, sis?” he asked, rocking in the chair, Josh seemingly torn between napping and eating. 

She walked in, sitting in the armchair beside him, pulling up her legs to her chest. Do it quickly, the teenagers had advised her. Quick and clean, like ripping a band-aid. 

“I don’t remember the first time Saki hit me…”

Casey looked confused a moment, before he smiled, softly, sinking down in the chair. “Then tell me about the first time you do remember.”


End file.
